Written in Heaven

“Rejoice that your names are written in heaven” 

I wasn’t going to tell them. After 5 miscarriages I knew better than to share too soon, but in order to get more of the progesterone that my body needs to maintain a pregnancy meant multiple doctors appointments in one week and so they just guessed it. 

My 2 oldest daughters cornered me and asked me point blank if I was pregnant. I wasn’t expecting it so I had no prepared response but only smiled and asked “why in the world they would ask me that” and so we told them. It was my 3rd daughter’s birthday, she was my first rainbow baby born on Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. We had known for almost a week that we were expecting and I was genuinely hopeful about this one, especially because I’d been taking progesterone that I’d saved from my previous pregnancy and things felt pretty normal. We gathered them together in my husband’s office and told them we had one more birthday gift but that it wouldn’t be arriving for about 9 more months. They were ecstatic. In the days that followed that is all they talked about. And there was an enormous amount of joy. I will be forever grateful for that joy- it can’t be taken away. 

The day after we told them I was sitting with my oldest son outside and we looked up and saw the craziest cloud in the sky, shaped like a six- I was so impressed I took a picture to show his brother Fred because Fred is 6. 

The day after I saw that 6 I took a another pregnancy test to make sure they were getting darker each day and the line on the stick really wasn’t much darker- that was the first day I started to worry, and it was the feast day of Saint Ignatius of Antioch, for whom we named our very first miscarried baby. 

In hindsight all of the things were pointing to God having a plan to bring this baby back to Himself, but He didn’t make me dwell on that at the time- I dwelt in the moment with our little one and he brought me immense joy. 

I got blood work done that afternoon which showed my HcG was low but within the “normal” early pregnancy range- my fears increased but I self talked non stop telling myself how often I’ve had low numbers and things have been ok- but my symptoms were abating. 2 days later they drew blood again and on my way home from that blood draw I had a sudden feeling that the 6 I had seen in the sky was Our Lord letting me know he had our 6 miscarried little souls with Him- they they were close to His Sacred Heart. Though I had to wait 24 hours to learn our baby had died, I took comfort in that concrete way the Lord let me know that He has ALL of my babies- that none of them are lost- and that He is pleased with our openness to the joy of children, though it is so often joy through many, many tears.

Even after 6 miscarriages this grief never gets easier to deal with. It feels like every lovely moment, every snuggle, every good conversation, every time I’ve held and worried over a sick one, every time I’ve hugged one while they’re sad or disappointed, every time I’ve tickled and joked with them, played board games and done puzzles, read aloud to them taught them to read- it feels like every single moment rolled into one and crushed. I will never have those moments with these little ones and my heart feels torn in two. I loved this little one fiercely from the very moment I knew he was growing. I love him fiercely still. 

I wrote this immediately after finding out we miscarried and then went back and looked that the unpublished post before it- the one with all my children holding new baby Scotty and it hit me: telling them about the existence of their new sibling was the closest they will get to holding and meeting him. They got to have so much joy over the knowledge that that little one was growing and though it was short it was good. I ended up posting that unfinished post because I never want to forget those beautiful moments of delight on their faces the first time they held Scotty and I’m posting this because I never want to forget their joy over this baby. 

A joy that cannot be taken away. 

Our baby’s name is Luke Isaac because we lost him around the feasts of Saints Luke and Isaac Jogues.

Saint Luke and Saint Isaac Jogues, pray for us!