Phil and I were over the moon to be pregnant again. A big part of me was scared out of my mind
because we had just gone through the painful experience of losing a baby.
Every part of being pregnant again took me back to the old memories. I'll never
forget when a good friend said to me, "God won't let it happen
again." I held on tight to those words every day during this pregnancy. I
wanted to believe it so badly. Those words quickly became my rock that got me
through each day, especially when doubt would creep in my mond. They helped me feel
reassured that everything was going to be okay.
The heartbreaking experience of
losing our baby, made our oldest daughter, Taryn, very apprehensive about the
new pregnancy. She was 5 years old at the time we lost Savannah. She was old
enough to know what was going on, old enough to be a little more emotionally in tuned with
the intense grief occurring in our home. More so than our 3 year old daughter,
Avery, who was happy as a bug that mom had a baby in her belly. Taryn had
been deeply distraught and confused by seeing me cry the days, weeks, and months
following our loss and knowing she would never get to meet her new little
sister, ever. As her mom, it broke my heart to pieces seeing her upset. She
always let me be, simply because she didn't know what else to do.
Taryn wasn’t too sure what to
think of all the new hype about mom being pregnant again. When we got to the
stage where we could feel the baby kick in my belly, Phil and Avery would get
excited and want to feel my belly right away. She, on the other hand, never wanted to
feel the kicks and did everything she could to avoid it. She said it scared
her. She associated a baby being in my belly with death and sadness. I was sad
she didn't want to feel her new baby brother but I also didn't want to force
her. I hoped she would come around. It was so hard when she'd ask me, "Is
the baby dead?" I'd say, "No," and invite her to feel how alive
he was, doing karate kicks in my womb. She never became interested. My sweet loving girl has always had a sensitive soul. It's who she is. I knew her wounds were deep and only time and love would heal her.
My husband and I had
age-appropriately prepared the girls for what birth was like. We had discussions about birth, showed them
videos online of babies being born, and talked about what a big celebration it was. They
loved watching birth videos. Of course, being their mom, I guarded them from
the scary stuff. I was careful not to show them things like too much blood,
lots of intense screaming, or doctors running a muck. I showed them the
beautiful side of natural birth. The way birth should be; intimate, quiet,
sacred. The way wild animals give birth. I felt there was no need to portray
the ways the media shows birth because we all know it creates unnecessary fear about a natural process.
When
it came time for our new baby to be born, we invited Taryn and Avery to be
a part of the birth if they wanted. Avery was curious and wanted to be
there to watch. She wandered in and out of our bedroom throughout my labor.
Taryn, wanted no part of it, which was fine. I knew we'd call her up to our
room as soon as he arrived. And we did. She was happy see him and meet him and
know he was alive and healthy. Today, he is a loud, energetic, and annoying
little brother to her. I always wonder how she'll view birth when she is an
adult. My hope is that she'll view it as a natural and exciting part of
life. I know she'll always have a unique view because of our past experience.
