This past Friday, May 18th, marked 5 months since
Miriam Jordan Ferrara was born and went to Heaven and exactly one year since I
found out I was pregnant. The pain of missing Mira hurts deeply each day. Between this anniversary and Mother’s Day,
and very busy season at work, May has been rough so far. Since Friday I haven’t
been able to stop thinking about May 18th, 2017 and the weeks
following.
I remember the events of the day very clearly. I remember that when driving home from work,
I was thinking about how I was a day late, and trying to not feel hopeful so I
wouldn’t be disappointed. When I got
home I took one of the cheapy pregnancy tests I had bought inn bulk a few
months ago because I was tired of spending money on tests each month when I wasn’t
patient enough to wait and see if I got my period before taking one. May was actually the month I had managed to
wait the longest, to the END of the day.
When that test showed those two lines that I had never gotten to see
before, I was thrilled, but cautious, sure it was too good to be true. So I got out the fancy more accurate test I
had been saving (really, saving a fancy stick to pee on, lets be honest), and
that one was positive too. Over the
course of the next 8 hours, I took 2 more cheap test, just to be sure. I was so worried it was too good to be
true!
I was home alone when I took those first two tests, with Joe
still at work. I had abandoned making
him wait the three minutes with me several months ago and just took them
without telling him at this point. This
meant that Albus got to be the first to hear the news. When Joe got home I practically jumped on him
at the door to tell him. We were just so
excited we couldn’t think straight! Next,
I facetimed my brother, Ben, who I insisted be the first hear. We also told our
parents and my sister right away, but decided to follow the 12 week rule to
tell everyone else. We went out to
dinner to celebrate. I called the OB the
next day to set up my appointments. I
went to work over the next two weeks and did intakes for the summer program,
talked with friends, cleaned the house, went about life all while dying to
share our happy, perfect, secret.
Then, you know the rest of the story, at 6 weeks I was misdiagnosed
as having a blighted ovum. One week later Mira’s miraculous heartbeat showed up
on an ultrasound and the next week we were officially told that she was healthy
and there were no concerns. Though the process
of believing we had a miscarriage, and asking for support and prayers, most of
our family and close friends had been told the news, so we went all out and announced
our official miracle baby at 8 weeks. I
am so glad we did not wait for 12 weeks.
This gave us a full 4 weeks to celebrate Mira with the world before
knowing she was sick.
There's a whole other conversation going on
In a parallel universe
Where nothing breaks and nothing hurts
There's a waltz playing frozen in time
Blades of grass on tiny bare feet
I look at you and you're looking at me
Could you beam me up,
Give me a minute, I don't know what I'd say in it
Probably just stare, happy just to be there holding your face
Beam me up,
Let me be lighter, I'm tired of being a fighter, I think,
A minute's enough,
Just beam me up.
(P!nk)
The reason you are supposed to wait 12 weeks is because that
is when a pregnancy is supposed to be ‘safe.’
This rule implies two things that are very wrong. The first is that after 12 weeks, if you are
still pregnant, you will have a healthy baby.
This is simply not true. After 12
weeks the statistically likelihood of miscarriage drops but it is still
possible. Stillbirth is still
possible. And at 12 weeks it is rare to
know if your baby has any health concerns.
We only knew about Mira’s at 12 weeks because we happened to get an
ultrasound due to her heartbeat being hard to hear with my ‘tilted’ uterus and
they weren’t concerned about anything at that time. This
information is misleading to parents, making a loss after 12 weeks even more
shocking.
The second thing the ’12 week rule’ tells us is, in my
opinion, a much bigger problem. The
belief that you should wait 12 weeks to announce a pregnancy incase you have a
miscarriage implies, very strongly, that if you do have a miscarriage,
especially prior to 12 weeks, you should keep it to yourself. This is so wrong. Does a baby that was developing for only 8
weeks, or 5 weeks, or 10 weeks, deserve any less acknowledgement of their
life? Does a parent losing a baby before
12 weeks need less support? No. It is still devastating. It is loss, there will be grief and
pain. The mother and/or father should be
able to share their grief. Does this
mean I think everyone should announce a pregnancy as soon as they know? No, I think people should share this news
whenever is best for them. Not based on
what other people think. Not based on an
accepted cultural norm that helps keep pregnancy and infant loss in the
shadows. The parents should decide what
is best for them. Do they want everyone
to know about the pregnancy right away, no matter what happens? Then they should share without
judgement. Do they want a few people to
know? Do they want to keep the news to themselves
until they feel more ready? That is fine
too! But the choice should be made based
on the parents needs and desires. There
should be no pressure to keep the secret, ‘just in case.’
I don’t what Joe and I would choose to do if we did have
another child. I do know we will make
the decision based on our needs, not based on rules. I know we would celebrate a life from the moment
we know it is there. I know we will
share Mira’s story, life, and legacy for the rest of ours. She is no less important because her life was
short. Never do words seems so inefficient
as when I say, “I miss you and I love you Mira.”
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