No grandma this time.

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My daughter lost the baby. If I’m brokenhearted, imagine how bad Abby and Tim  feel.

As I noted in my announcement post, I’d secretly worried that she wouldn’t be able to have kids due to her health issues. This loss seems particularly cruel in light of that, and especially after the year they’ve just had. Among the highlights:

  • Their car was totaled by a careless driver. Insurance negotiations dragged on for weeks – and because the settlement didn’t cover the cost of a (used) replacement vehicle, they took out an auto loan.
  • His parents were facing bankruptcy so Abby and Tim jumped the gun on buying a home. They found a place with a guest house out back, put down a much smaller payment than they would have liked, and spent a ton of money to move his mom and dad south.
  • They’d been planning to try for a family within the year – after Abby had stepped down off a couple of medications. This meant she had to do it very quickly, which was not much fun.

I just wish her life weren’t so damned hard. Several times today I’ve re-read an excerpt from a sermon about the times when we ask “Why, God? Why?”

It’s not about silencing the questions. It’s about knowing I am a creature created by the Creator of all that is. And so there are things, at least in this life, that I will never know. And that must be enough.

You know what? Today it isn’t enough. All I can say is that sometimes God’s love is hard to understand, or even, sometimes, to feel.

But then I think about my mother. I’d been thinking about her a lot in the past week. She was my labor coach; I lived with her and my stepfather for the first 11 months of Abby’s life.

Looking back, I believe that my daughter’s birth represented a chance for Mom to be the mother she wished she’d been able to be, rather than the one she’d wound up being. The exhausted young woman out of whose body the babies burst like sneezes, four in five years without plot or plan. The impoverished wife busy from dawn until midnight and always a croupy cough or a wailing newborn to interrupt what few hours of sleep she allowed herself. The manic housekeeper whose memories of childhood squalor made her shout at her children for making messes. The insufficiently nurtured little girl who had no idea that sometimes toddlers shrugged off kisses, and took it as just one more rejection and judgment.

‘You saved my life, little girl’

My mother loved all her grandchildren, but Abby held a special place in her heart. Years later, she explained why: “When your dad and I split up, I gave up on love. I swore I would never let myself get hurt again. But when Abby was born, she changed all that. How can you not love a baby? My heart just opened up and she taught me how to love again.”

Mom died of cancer in August 2003. Abby flew across the country to be with her. When she had to leave again, Mom’s whispered goodbye made us all weep: “You saved my life, little girl. Don’t you ever forget that.” That frail testimony went straight to my heart.

For the past week or so I’d been wishing she could be here to see Abby’s pregnancy. It would be the most-loved child in the universe if Mom were in the room. How delighted she would have been to hold that baby.

Maybe she’s doing that right now.

If you have kids, hug them tightly. Recognize them for the treasures they are, even when they’re really pissing you off. Realize how miraculous it is that any of us make it here at all.

And if you have it in you to pray, send a couple skyward for my daughter’s and son-in-law’s healing. Tack on one for me, too: that my heart will stay open enough to learn from this newest sorrow, and that I will not only keep questioning but learn to live with the answers I receive. As they say, God answers all prayers – and sometimes the answer is “no.”

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87 thoughts on “No grandma this time.”

  2. I feel so bad for Abby et all, especially to have shared the news so early and now have to deal with the sadness and the odd things people say when trying to help. My sympathy to you as well.

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  6. Hugs to you, Abby, & Tim. I will keep you all in my thoughts and prayers. And to Carol – I think you said it best. Maybe God is saying “not yet.”

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  9. I’m so very sorry for the loss of your grandbaby and the heartache your daughter is experiencing. I appreciate that through the sadness you can celebrate and cherish living and the lives lost-your Mom. Take care.

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  18. I read this before I left home for work this morning. I decided to hop off the train early, take a long walk in the snow, and send up prayers for the lot of you.

    A woman very dear to me suffered through two such losses, and she told me it’s cold comfort to hear “don’t worry, you’ll have another baby”. Her (unspoken) response was always, “but I wanted THIS baby”. So I won’t talk about the future while you’re mourning this loss. Instead, I’m praying for healing and peace for Abby and Tim, and for you, and for everyone who loved that kid so much already.

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  20. I’m so sorry, Donna. Words seem so inadequate, but they’re what I’ve got. You, Abby, Tim and his parents are in my thoughts. I wish you all comfort and healing.

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  26. Oh Donna,
    There are no words to express the sorrow…I’m sending prayers of healing and hope to you and to your daughter and her husband. I’m so sorry for your loss. I was not able to have children because of congenital birth defects and went through a long, long road of trying to have a baby…It is not an easy time. Hang on to each other, love each other. Know that you are not alone.

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  30. So sorry for this loss. I lost 2 after much trying and I had given up. In the end we were blesses with a baby who is now 9. I know how she feels and can only imagine your pain. I am sending prayers and positive thoughts your way.

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  37. Oh, Donna. There are no words. Sending love and and supportive thoughts to all of you.

    Abby may feel really alone right now, but there are women who feel her pain and grieve with her. My mom lost a baby between myself and my little sister, and didn’t really talk about the loss – I was too little to remember, and didn’t know until years later. If she can, let people cry with her.

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  38. It’s sad for all of us when one of us grieves. I am sad for you, for Abby and Tim, for Abby’s in-laws, and all your family. God bless and help you through this terrible time.

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  39. My first child was stillborn. It still hurts but time does help. I did go on to have two more beautiful children but I will always love the one I lost. My heart goes out to you and Abby. I am saying prayers for you and your family.

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  45. I am so sorry to hear this Donna. I am going to drop Abby a note now, I still have her info from Blogher. A very touching story, thank you for sharing your life with all of us!

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  46. Donna there really are no words that can comfort you and Abby and Tim at this difficult time. Just know that there are prayers being said for all of you. Hang in there.

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  56. “And if you have it in you to pray, send a couple skyward for my daughter’s and son-in-law’s healing. Tack on one for me, too: that my heart will stay open enough to learn from this newest sorrow, and that I will not only keep questioning but learn to live with the answers I receive. ” Consider it done, and with deepest sympathy.

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  57. This post set me to weeping. I’m so sorry for the grief you’re all feeling. I’ve been through it and it’s miserable, especially when it’s not just the loss of a child [bad enough] but also feels like the loss of your hope of motherhood [even if it’s not true – and I am sure it won’t be for Abby].

    But what really set me to weeping was your mother’s words 🙂 How wonderful that they had such a magical relationship.

    My prayers for all of you to find comfort in knowing that she’s taking care of that baby for you. My prayers for you all to feel supported during the process of grieving. My prayers for Abby to have an easy and successful pregnancy when the time is right for her.

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    • @Cherie: I get tearful whenever I think of that final exchange. How hard it was for Abby, as we took her to the airport, to say, “It’s just so awful — I know I will never see her again.”

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  58. Just heartbreaking. They say god doesn’t give us more than we can handle,maybe not, but sometimes he sure takes it right to that line.

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  60. Although I never experienced a miscarriage, we did lose a little baby girl when she was only 8 1/2 mos. It was life changing and neither my husband or I have ever been the same and that was 24 years ago. At that moment, nothing else in the world mattered — especially money.

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  61. Although I never experienced a miscarriage, we did lose a little baby girl when she was only 8 1/2 mos. It was life changing and neither my husband or I have ever been the same and that was 24 years ago. At that moment, nothing else in the world mattered — especially money. I am incredibly sorry for all in your family.

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    • @Sylvia: I can’t imagine the anguish you must have felt — to love a child for 8-plus months and then to lose her. I’m so sorry.

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  64. I’m so sorry to hear about your loss. I lost a baby this past spring and it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever gone through. But at the time I don’t think I realized how much it devastated my mother too. I find some comfort in the thought that my baby is meeting my Aunt Sue (who I was so close to and died when I was a kid) and my mom’s best friend, Carol, who died when I was in junior high.
    I thought I was almost “over” my miscarriage when the due date came around last October and I was even more upset than when the miscarriage occurred. Let yourself and her daughter grieve however you need to for as long as you need to. Just because you didn’t get to meet this child doesn’t make your loss any less significant. My thoughts and prayers are with you.

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  66. Our first grandchild was stillborn. I can’t explain the grief I still feel to this day – but I know you feel it as well. May God bless you and your daughter and son-in-law. Little children are so precious – especially that little ones who slip off back to heaven before we get to meet them.

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  69. Donna, So sorry to hear of your family’s loss. Sometimes life just doesn’t seem fair. Our dear grandson has had several health issues and you worry about your g-baby AND your kids…it’s a very helpless feeling….words can’t do it justice. Once again…so very sorry.

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  70. My prayers go out to you all. God has his plan and I learned to trust in him and wonderful things are going to come your way! Just mourn, heal, and pray and please don’t be angry with God. He isn’t punishing you.

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  72. My heart dropped when I saw the title of the post and confirmed after reading. So very sorry to hear of your family’s loss Donna.

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  73. I will definitely pray for you and your family. What a tragic loss. I am so sorry, Donna. I’ve read your daughter’s blog, and she sounds like a really strong and resourceful person, like you. Also, the fact that she and her husband were more than willing to help her husband’s parents when they were facing bankruptcy shows how generous they are. I’ve heard stories about adult children who turn their backs on their parents and in-laws or raid their savings, but Abby and Tim show that there are still good people out there who are loyal to their families.

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  80. I’m so sorry. I had a miscarriage with my first baby, at 13 weeks. It was devastating. I’m so happy she you to be there for her and her husband. My friends were invaluable to be during that period of my life – it would have been hard to deal with the situation without them. I’m sure she feels the same way about you.

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  81. just a thought with the kindest, gentlest intentions:

    Twenty odd years ago, my aunt went through many miscarriages–some late term, some within weeks–over the space of 10 years. After the first two, she underwent several much needed lifestyle changes (and then my uncle did too) and became the optimum of health, in ways she didn’t know she could even be healthy, during her fertility counseling (this was before drugs–diet, naturopath & effort were it) and final pregnancy.

    That health finally gave birth to a perfect, perfectly healthy baby girl. And, helped the mother become a poster child for breast cancer survival 14 years later. That little girl grew up to be that really perfect, sunny-natured, good-hearted, smart and ambitioned person that only gave her family joy, and not a moment of heartache (no terrible twos, no rebel teens, no questionable college boyfriends…she’s kinda wierd).

    My aunt got through those 10 years of miscarriages thinking that each one was a “try” and that her and the child would have to “try again” until both got it right. She is convinced that my niece isn’t the only child who survived…but that she is THE child that “finally” arrived.

    Maybe your grandchild is just waiting for the next turn, giving your daughter a clearer idea of what might be involved in managing her chemistry in preparation….

    Sometime “no” is really just “wait”; an alternate perspective, with the kindest of thoughts to you and Abby, and Tim.

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