** sometimes you just need to let it out. whether it makes complete sense or not. even if its the hard, ugly truth...
and this is that time.
i have debated on posting this, but i know the times that i have found comfort in other's honesty... to know im not alone.
so if you are that person that needs someone's raw honesty... you've come to the right place. i promise that i am going to be ok, but right now i just need to let this out**

if you were in my bedroom with me right now, 
i'd offer you some tea, a blanket, and some tissues.
i'd tell you that i hate this.
that i wish i had it more together. 
that it didn't feel like the familiar fog that came over me when i lost Noah. 

I thought that I would be able to handle this better. 
you know, losing a child.
that i would have the magic words, 
the right formula to not feel like my heart is crushing inside my chest.

i got this email from a dear friend and this about sums it up: 


As you continue to read this, know that I've been staring at my computer and phone for the last hour. Thinking about what to say. How to say it. Should I email, should I call? I decided the last thing you needed was me blubbering on the other end of the phone while your trying to hold your self together. I decided you needed for me to be real with you. I hope those were good decisions. Most of all I hope you know that I love you and miss you.

I can't even begin to know how you feel. So, I'm not going to tell you it will be okay. I'm not going to tell you it gets better with time. Because, I honestly have no idea. What I can tell you, with absolute certainty, is that THIS sucks. I wish you were here so I could hug your neck and cry with you. Of course, God has a plan. Of course, Nora Jane is in heaven being sung to by the angles.Of course, of course, of course. But it still sucks. I should probably be quoting scripture and giving you some sort of encouragement. Maybe I should have waited until tomorrow to write you. I should have processed more, come up with something better to say than this sucks. I'm sorry. We love you guys. You're still in our prayers.


i cant begin to express how much this email meant to me, and still does. i find myself reading and re-reading it. 

while i really do appreciate the prayers, good thoughts and love.
sometimes i just need to be able to say...
im mad, hurt, sad, and that this does suck!

i am all over the map with my feelings and emotions, but thats what happens when you stuff your feelings for over a week...

yes a week.

its almost been a full week since we found out that i had miscarried. 
Ryan says I'm expecting way more of myself than anyone else expects of me.
No one expects me to be just fine after losing a child.
After losing a second child.

I know all the verses,
I know God has a plan and a purpose,
but I also know that this hurts.
That this just sucks.

We KNEW that Nora was here, 
so we planned, we dreamed.
we talked about how nice it was going to be having two littles two years apart.
how close they would be, what a big helper Eden would be...

i look at Eden, and while i am so grateful and blessed to have her here,

i can't help but look and see the "could have been's". 

my body aches to hold Noah and stroke his cheek, 
to reach down and feel Nora kicking inside of me... 
to later watch Noah watching over his sister's while they play dress up, 
pulling their hair when they won't leave him alone to read his book on dinosaurs.
Eden teaching Nora how to put tupperware containers in the dishwasher. 
Bath time with bubbles and water all over the bathroom with three wriggly bodies giggling and laughing... 
yes. i cant help but see that when i look at Eden. 

i know that its bad for you to push your emotions down. to not feel and process... but if someone could tell me how to "process and really feel" while you have a 16 month old whose teething and not sleeping, a husband who works crazy long hours, and  a body that you can't control... (hormones mostly) IM ALL EARS. 

The one thing that I had such a hard time with when we lost Noah, was that we had nothing to hold onto, no pregnancy test, no ultrasound... Nothing. I finally was able to have a little closure when we had a ring made with his name and birthstone in it. 

Something I could touch, feel...

that was a fear i had. that with future pregnancies, i would miss something. that i wouldn't have closure... again.

so when i started bleeding, I went through everything that came out of my body. Everything. I carried plastic cups with me to catch the blood when we were away from the house. in case i was in a bathroom with those stupid automatic toilets, so that I wouldn't miss the baby if I was miscarrying. to this day, I KNOW that there was no baby.

When we went to the doctor, he pulled out a clot, showed it to me quickly... (mind you I'm on my back, the speculum is still inside of me) 
and then says, "its just a clot".
That was the only thing that he removed from my body.
The only thing that i haven't touched.

Ryan said that he remembered the clot was very round. That he didn't know what he was looking at other than it was almost a perfect circle. That when the doctor said it was a clot, he felt relief. Our baby was still inside of me. Still okay. 

then the ultrasound- nothing. empty. blank screen.

and now...
We both feel, and the only explanation i can find, is that what was inside of that "clot"..
was Nora. our baby. 
I feel this gut retching guilt... 
that I let this doctor throw my baby away into the red biohazard bag! 
I don't want to say I blame him for not knowing, he's not an OBGYN but just a family Dr. that works with our midwife.
but I wish I would have asked to see more. to touch and feel what he took out.
to take our baby home.

So again, I'm left with nothing but positive pee sticks and paperwork that says "spontaneous abortion". Which makes me sick.

i know the scripture, i know the promises, i know that comforting peace that passes all understanding...
but i also know that my heart is broken. my arms ache for my angel babies.

its hard to watch the rest of the world move forward when all i want to do is sit still.
to just cry.
to let these burning tears that seem trapped behind my eyes, fall.
these tears that won't fall for fear that they wont stop.

the burning in my throat, the crushing feeling in my chest...
the all to familiar ache in my arms. i hate it. i hate it all.

but i also love it. it reminds me that i can feel.
that im not some terrible person for not dealing with my emotions.

while i know the time will come where i will be able to express myself better, 

to let myself feel and work through this, to heal...
right now im good with the this just sucks stage.

xoxo, kate


  1. I found this post through Instagram. We miscarried a week ago. Our daughter, Nora (feeling like I was supposed to read this post) would have been a big sister 2 months before her birthday this fall. Your friend's letter is amazing. Wishing you healing on your own schedule...we never know how long it will take, but we'll take it day by day.

  2. I found this post through Instagram. We miscarried a week ago. Our daughter, Nora (feeling like I was supposed to read this post) would have been a big sister 2 months before her birthday this fall. Your friend's letter is amazing. Wishing you healing on your own schedule...we never know how long it will take, but we'll take it day by day.

    1. Kate, i am so sorry that i am just now getting to see your sweet comment. xoxo sweet friend please know that you are in my prayers as well.