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Natasha’s Story: Stillbirth

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*I am honored to host a series of guest posts by mothers on dealing with the loss of our little ones during pregnancy or shortly after. Each mother has written a summary of their journey and then a letter to the baby they lost. I have found this to be a really healing part of my journey and would recommend that any mother who has lost a baby write a letter full of those words she wanted to express, but never got the chance.*

Natasha’s Journey:

During our twenty-week ultrasound with our first child in January 2010, my husband, Jason, and I discovered that our baby no longer had a heartbeat and had died two weeks earlier.  Due to how far along I was in the pregnancy, I was induced a couple of days later, and Jeremiah Zachary was born on January 24th.  He was 9 inches long and weighed 7 ounces.  We were able to deliver at a pro-life Catholic hospital and were allowed to take pictures and keep Jeremiah in the room with us until night.  He was then brought to us the next morning so that we could say our final goodbyes.  The hospital provided us with a “Certificate of Life” containing his name and footprints surrounded by Bible verses, which was a tremendous gift!  We later found out that Jeremiah was born on Sanctity of Life Sunday, and it reinforced for us that God had a plan for our son and his death.  We gave him names with meaning and promise:  “Jeremiah” means “He will uplift,” and “Zachary” means “He remembers.”

Since our loss, God has blessed us with two more sons, Jonathan Samuel (age 2 years, 10 months) and Gabrien Tobias (age 18 months).”

My sweet Jeremiah,

This past Thursday, June 10th, marked the day that you were estimated to arrive to us; and it is still so hard to believe that you are never going to be here alive this side of heaven. You’ve been on my mind so much over the last week, and I wish somehow that I could hold you again. I miss you more than I can possible tell you, Sweetheart. Not a day goes by that I don’t find myself thinking about how things would have been if you hadn’t been taken from us so soon. I am at peace with God’s decision to take you home, but the sadness is still so overwhelming sometimes that I feel like it will destroy me. Having your picture on the necklace that I made and wearing it every day is such a comfort to me. It hangs right near my heart, and the symbolism of that is so meaningful. The necklace often brings a smile to my face because, even though I leave your picture turned in toward my body when I’m at work, I can’t tell you how many times each week I look down and find you faced out toward the world. This is a small, quiet gift from God to me because I WANT YOU TO BE SEEN AND KNOWN BY EVERYONE. It was hard for me to stop the tears from flowing this last Thursday because the world has gone on; I look around at the bustle around me, and it’s clear that the people milling about don’t know about you. There is such a longing in me for everyone to deeply understand how important you are and how much this world has lost by you not being here, but I realize that I can’t hold this against anyone. They have no way of knowing apart from me, your daddy and our families. And that, I guess, is why I wear your necklace every day. It occasionally gives me opportunities to share your story, and my mommy heart needs that desperately. You remain such an incredibly important and precious part of me, and I am SO PROUD OF YOU.
I’m starting to cry again as I write this, and I’m finding myself wondering how long it will hurt like this. Part of me is hoping that the pain never stops. As long as it remains, I am connected to you somehow; and that is so, so precious to me.
. . . This letter was originally posted on Natasha’s blog. Please read the rest of it and see the touching pictures of their precious son . . .
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