It was a day like any other. It always is. No one ever expects these things to happen. You start your morning, go to work, make dinner, do a few evening chores, and watch a little TV. Just another normal day.
But then your whole world changes. And not for the better.
That was my day, exactly three years ago today. A completely normal day, until just before bed. That's when it happened. My heart raced and I felt panic. I didn't know what to do and felt completely helpless.
Nothing prepares you for the reality of a miscarriage. Feeling helpless is an understatement. You learn very quickly that you really have no control over anything.
I started bleeding just as we started getting ready to go to bed. We headed to the hospital and I was put in a room in Triage on the Labor & Delivery floor. It was the first of many, many trips we would end up making to Triage over the next three years. We were there for several hours, I had an ultrasound, bled a lot, and had a lot of very painful cramping. It was one of the scariest nights of my life.
That was the night we lost our first baby. I was only about 8 weeks pregnant and we had not shared the news with anyone. But I could not ignore the life that I knew had been there, no matter how short it had been. So we started telling our families and eventually our friends and as more and more time has gone by we've been more open about this child that God gave to us for a short time.
We didn't know if we had a girl or a boy, but we wanted to name this child anyway. Give him or her an identity. We selected the name Casey Marie and entrusted her care to Our Blessed Mother. Over time we have also started to identify Casey as a girl. We don't know why, but it must have been put on our hearts by God.
I still miss Casey and think about her often. I can't believe it has been three years already. Of all of our children she was with us the shortest amount of time, but she was still our child. A daughter we never got to hold, never got to see smile, never got to watch as she discovered the world around her.
Today I remember her specifically. Not just the physical and emotional pain we went through three years ago today, but the child that she was. She was a gift from God, His child given to us for a short time. She is His child, always was and always will be. That's what she taught me in her short life. Our children are never really ours. They are God's and He gives them to us as gifts, to care for and nurture until He brings them home, whether that be for only a few weeks or for many, many years.
The loss of a baby weighs heavy on me today. Not just because of the anniversary of losing Casey but also because this day comes only one day after a friend of mine just lost a baby and the promise of motherhood that seemed so close.
Casey Marie, my little saint in heaven, please pray for us.