"Safe Zone"

I had lunch with my friend the other day, another baby loss mom. We started talking about pregnancy and the elusive safe zone, you know the spot in your pregnancy where you can relax and know that everything will be alright.

8 week appointment: You get the confirmation ultrasound, see the heartbeat - receive a small amount of relief, right? Your chance of miscarriage "drops" to around 4%.

12 weeks! whew, right? Out of the first trimester, the risk of loss is less than 1%.

20 weeks, perhaps you have found out the gender and you're halfway there! Nothing could go wrong, could it?

But for baby loss moms, we discovered, there is NEVER a safe zone. You never let your guard down. No amount of weeks passed will allow you to relax. Sure, you tell yourself that there are milestones, and there are. In our world, there are more stark terms and phrases, like viability outside the womb, NICU, pre-term labor, micro-preemie, incompetent cervix, the list goes on and on.

My friend said she didn't think she'd relax until she brought the baby home. But then, she said, there's a whole new set of fears. There are. I have an 18 year old and sometimes my mind goes crazy with worry. It just never goes away. It seems to trade itself in for a new load of worries.

I think as baby loss moms, we sometimes lie to ourselves. We rationalize and tell ourselves what we need to do to get by, to get through a single day. We've lost so much already, that maybe we say, "Surely I've suffered enough. Surely God would not allow me to suffer again."

I have said this to myself, several times. When the fear would swell up and threaten to consume me, I would say things like this to quell the choking terror.

It worked for 17 years. Then I met women, strong and courageous women, who have suffered loss two times over. Three times over. FIVE TIMES OVER. The first time I heard Linda Colletti speak was during the Forever in Our Hearts Remembrance Day. Hearing her story made me truly see that I am NOT alone. I don't have to suffer in solitude anymore.

Slowly I am learning that the only way out is through.