There is no word to describe.

A wife who loses a husband is called a widow.
A husband who loses a wife is called a widower.
A child who loses his parents is called an orphan.
There is no word for a parent who loses a child.
That’s how awful the loss is.
– Jay Neugeboren – An Orphan’s Tale – 1976

In all the wonder of the world, there is no word for the loss of a child.

Saturday, January 28, 2017 I miscarried our unexpected blessing. The feeling of that process is to devastating to explain. The sensation of the loss and then the gut feeling of knowing what juts happened, a mother's instincts are sharp.

Sunday, January 22 I started bleeding. I called the doctor right away, was put on bed rest for the day, and told to schedule with  my doctor a time sometime in the week to meet. I was assured that this is not uncommon.

Wednesday, January 25 my mother-in-love accompanied me to the doctor and I had my 3rd inner ultrasound. We saw the baby, the fetal pull, but the sac was small, but my doctor seemed optimistic. I went on with life, still bleeding and my lower back hurting, but comforted that the baby was well.

Friday, January 27, my back still hurting, my stomach felt out of sorts. The bleeding was continuing, and I was a nervous wreck. Nothing was normal... I cried myself to sleep.

Early the next morning my sweet baby boy woke up way too early wanting to watch Harry Potter. I shooed him into the other room and told him I would be right there. I stood up out of bed and felt something inside me fall. Then I heard my baby girl saying she wanted to watch Harry Potter too (they are obsessed with movies 1-3 and that is all we watch anymore - thankfully a certain Ice Princess seems to have been forgotten and her song to Let it Go!). I put a brave face on, I set them up with a snack and the movie, then excused myself to my bedroom.

There are things you know, without even knowing that you know, and when you see you just understand. And if you doubt what you are seeing, there is the web to search which can confirm for you. God's blessing was on me Saturday, as my doctor was the doctor on call for the weekend. I called the weekend number, not even sure how to describe what I was going through and my wonderful doctor called me right away. We talked for almost 10 minutes, and with all I said, all my symptoms, she told me I had miscarried, but that we would confirm Monday morning. She wanted me to call as soon as her office opened, talk to her nurse, and they would make sure I was seen right away.

My husband cancelled his clients and came home to be with me. We spent the majority of Saturday at home, just being. Not much was done or accomplished, just the act of being in each others presence. We told our parents what we were going through.

Sunday we got up and we went to church. We told our classes we were having more testing done the next morning, that even more complications had arisen.

Yesterday we got up and we started our day. My parents agreed to take the kids to school so Brock and I could make to the doctor as early as possible. Our sweet and inquisitive four year old asked why Papa and Nana were taking them to school and not myself (mommy). We informed her that the doctor wanted to see the baby, make sure all was well. She accepted that answer, but I could tell her four year old mind had questions.

Traffic was ridiculous, but this is the week of Super Bowl 51 and my doctor's office is right down the road from NRG stadium, so it wasn't unexpected. We arrived early, I made the phone call to upstairs. My doctor has the best nurses. They are sweet, quick, and efficient. I absolutely love her nurses. Brock and I got on the elevator to head up, and our doctor was on the elevator with us. The compassion and sympathy on her face almost did me in. She asked how we were, and we responded numb, and we will find out soon.

There is a receptionist at my doctor's practice who I do not get along with - I think she is the rudest woman on earth, very unsympathetic and judgmental. It is on my heart to pray for her, and I do. But I did not want to deal with her yesterday, and God intervened. We were able to talk with the other receptionist and she is friendly, cheerful and helpful. We went back into the rooms area, and one of the nurses was with us. She is such a joy, and she asked questions, and you could see on her face what she was thinking. We entered the ultrasound room. I have been in that room more this month than I have ever been with my first two pregnancies combined. You learn the drill, and the nurse and I did all our motions. Then we waited. My husband even knew where he needed to be, and he was there in position when our doctor came in. Not much chit chat, we got right to it. The screen was empty - no more sac.

Our baby was gone.

Our doctor gave us some comforting words (as comforting as they could be for the situation). She informed us that 1 in 4 pregnancies end in a miscarriage before 12 weeks. That she is grateful for us that we have two healthy children already, that when it is the first pregnancy that ends this way, it takes longer for the parents to recover. We discussed what I need to watch for and what I need to do the next few weeks, and that was essentially that.

Brock stepped out to start the family phone calls. I headed to the nurses area to set up the lab appointments I need to take care of. My doctor encouraged me to find a group or a person to talk to about all this. I told her that Saturday I had started to look and had found a surprising amount of options considering most people do not talk about miscarriage. And I said we are blessed to have an amazing community of friends, family, and church around us, that we should be good. And she agreed, she was encouraged that for almost all my appointments this go I have always had someone with me - I have not been on this road alone.

So yesterday we let the world know that our baby, Charli by the way, is no longer with us. The day we found out we were expecting, we let our 4 and 2 year old know. Abigail, in her bright and matter of fact way of saying things, proclaimed, ""It's a girl named Charli." My mother's father was Charlie, Charles, but everyone called him Charlie. He passed away shortly after Brock and I met, and one of my joys is that my Papa and my husband met each other. I am not the type of person to wait, so I have been trying out names, as has my husband the past few weeks. and for a girl, I was loving Charli Ann or Charli Grace. And boy names were Charles Richard, Charles Samuel...nothing set in stone, but we were dreaming. And so through this, I have called the baby, I have talked to baby and have said, "Fight Charli, mommy can't do anything, but you can fight."

The outpouring of love, prayers, hugs, and condolences is overwhelming. Our family truly is blessed to be loved by so many.

Abigail and Stone do not know yet. How do you tell young children? I honestly thought Abigail would run up to me at pick up yesterday and ask about our appointment. Neither child peeped last night about the doctor visit or the baby. And so now we are waiting. The preschool knows we lost the baby (many of the staff their are friends), but that the kids do not. My prayer is that when the time comes, God will give me the words to use that will help Abigail understand. Stone is too young a this point to truly comprehend, I am not even sure he really has comprehended the pregnancy. This will be Abigail's first real experience with loss, and at such a young age I am not sure how to guide her through this.

I am not sure I know how to comprehend this event. I have lost a child. But I have nothing to "show" for it. There will be no funeral, no burial, no obituary. Just a scar on my heart, a date written in my Bible, and a pregnancy journal put away.

Someone asked Brock how this experience has been for us. The obvious is a rollercoaster: high's and low's, twists and turns. But also a band aid. You remove a band aid in one of two ways: fast and quick to be done with it, or slow in hopes of avoiding the sting. This experience has been a slow band aid. And so has our grief and mourning. After the first appointment I was mournful because everything showed a blighted ovum and that we would lose the baby. But then we had upbeat blood work and we saw the fetal pull flickering on the ultrasound. Then I started to bleed, then it looked like the baby was fine and growing, and now the actual loss.  I cried on Saturday when my husband came home. And I cried yesterday on the drive home from the doctor's office when it occurred to me that I needed to tell him the baby's name was Charli. but other than that I haven't cried. now grief is a funny thing, I know people who get angry and get over things, I know those who cry non-stop for days. Everyone mourns differently, and I don't know how I am going to grieve or when to be honestly. Right now though I am finding comfort in my faith, my family, and that one day I will see Charli. I have found some online communities that are a place for the grieving, and I have found some resources on how to cope. I am waiting for those to come in. Those who know us know the story, but I haven't shared it with strangers who can relate. Right now I am reading and seeing how others have found comfort in this situation. I am also reading. Psalms have been a great help, as has my precept studies this semester. This world is not it. There is more for those of us who believe.

I have commented to people that I am grateful that this has happened at this point in my life. I recognize that my walk is about as strong as it has ever been, and had this tragedy happened at any other point I would not be at peace as I am now.

Philippians 4:7 (ESV)
⁷ And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

And I am at peace. I am sad, but I can know that my husband and I will get through this. We will move on, we will be stronger, and we both recognize that God has a plan in all this. I could not imagine going through this with out Christ as my Savior. Through the past few weeks Bible verses have come to my mind, verses that have comforted me. And that is only possible because I have spent dedicated time in the Bible reading and memorizing it, and the fact that I have a relationship with Jesus Christ and His Holy Spirit lives in me.

 

Charli Shuman

January 28, 2017