I'm not going to lie, I have struggled with seeing posts today about October being Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month. And it's not because I don't feel there should be a month dedicated to such, but I guess because it stirs emotions in me that I try to keep under the surface most days.
I had originally decided I wasn't going to post anything this month. Not in any way out of disrespect to Khoen or to any other families who have faced losses similar to mine, but because I didn't think I was strong enough to bring those emotions back to the surface at this time.
But then I realized the feelings were already there anyways, and it's such a common thing, and it deserves to be talked about. Khoen deserves to be talked about.
Five years, 4 months, and 2 days ago, I never imagined I'd ever know the pain of losing a child. I never thought I'd know the pain of miscarriage. Of course I worried about SIDS, I think every parent does to an extent. But I also never felt it could happen to me.
Makennas pregnancy had gone well, and she came at 37 weeks with no complications. I watched her sleep and breathe as a baby, and she made it through that "scary SIDS time frame" where you have to worry about this unknown crazy thing that can take your child away at any given moment.
Then I had Kaisyn. The pregnancy also went well, and she came at 37 weeks as well, with no complications. She did have a few issues after her birth, and has to spend some extra time in the hospital, but she was ok.
And then I had the twins. They came at 2 months early, and spent a few weeks in the NICN, but they were ok. Khoen was hospitalized less than 2 weeks before his death, but Makenna also was hospitalized as a baby for RSV, and that was scary but she came through fine and was ok after.
And while Khoen still had some issues with his soft spot after coming home, I never thought he could die. That just doesn't happen to my children, and not to me. There's just no way.
So when I left for Charleston with one of my best friends, her son, and my girls, just for a one night trip, I never imagined anything could happen to my sweet boys while I was gone. Call it naive, but how was I supposed to know?
But Khoen did die. On June 2, 2012, while I was hours away in Charleston. It was no ones fault. Autopsies ruled out everything. There was no reason. He was perfect. He was healthy. And then he was just gone.
A part of me died that day, too. So did a part of my family. Everything changed. Our entire family dynamic. My whole life.
I've never known that kind of pain. There are no words to adequately describe it. It makes you physically sick. It makes you unable to see color, unable to hear the world around you, unable to see what's right in front of you. It's terrifying.
It took weeks for me to even learn to take baby steps again. Not hours, not days, WEEKS. I didn't even face my other children at first. I couldn't.
My life slowly became the new normal that it would forever be. Yes, I've mentally gotten to a better place. I've learned things I never imagined I'd have to learn. I don't take life for granted. I hold my children closer. I love stronger and harder than I did before. But not all changes ended in a positive way.
I developed anxiety that is crippling at times. I started having panic attacks I never had before. I knew that things you think can't happen to you, CAN. And that was hard to swallow. It still is.
In 2014, I became pregnant again. I was both terrified and elated. I wanted that baby. I loved that baby. And as I've said in a previous blog, I started writing letters to that baby from the day those positive lines showed up.
Then in May, at only around 6 weeks pregnant, I started bleeding and cramping, and I knew it was bad. I was in so much pain, and I was SO sick, and I was miserable. A test of my HCG levels, then another 3 days later, showed exactly what I feared. I was miscarrying.
They gave me a pill to speed the process. The doctor called it the "abortion" pill. I'll never forget that. I didn't take it. I chose to wait it out, and suffer through what proved to be the second hardest obstacle of my life.
When I became pregnant, I didn't think I could miscarry. I mean, I had just lost a baby to SIDS. Plus, I had always had healthy pregnancies, why would this be different?
That's the thing. It doesn't discriminate, and it doesn't matter how many babies you've had, what race you are, how old you are, it can happen to anyone. And it's so much more common than people realize.
After my miscarriage, I found out so many people I know had been through that pain as well. It's heartbreaking.
Love your babies. Enjoy your pregnancies, even the worst days. Hug those little ones, even when their all day crying drives you loony. If you're blessed with multiples, don't complain about how it's so stressful and terrible. Just know you're so blessed, and don't take any bit of it for granted.
If you know someone who has lost a baby or gone through a miscarriage, love them. Pray for them. Just be there. Don't tell them "At least you have other children." Could you choose one of your children to just live without?
And if you are struggling with loss, be it a baby you never got to meet or one you only held in your arms for a short time, please know you aren't alone. I'm praying for you. I'm thinking of you. And not only you, but your sweet babies as well. They will never be forgotten.
I'll always love you, Khoen Lee, and the baby I never got to hold. Always. I'll never allow you to be forgotten. I'll always be a mom to twins. And I can't wait see you again in Heaven.
