Being Thankful with a Broken Heart

It is November, the month of being grateful. And I do have a lot to be thankful for. I will admit, I wrote this post more for me than anything else. Writing really is the best therapy.

***Trigger Warning***

It was my husbands families year for Thanksgiving, so we had our trip all planned to San Diego. We were going to get all the cousins together and have a fun, adventure filled week. One tradition they have is to go around the table, after everyone has eaten Thanksgiving Dinner, and say what they are grateful for. I’m sure a lot of people have this tradition, but the Bosens take this very seriously! I began preparing my speech at the beginning of the month because goodness, I have so much to be grateful for. My in-laws always have these amazing things to say and I wanted to be prepared.

I was ready.

  • Taelynn and her fabulous zeal for life. The happiness she brings when she walks in the room. Her sense of humor and sensitivity to others.
  • Tyce and his huge heart. How much he loves love. The excitement he shows when he sees his family. The way he paves his own path.
  • Matt for his hold on life. His strong willpower to provide for his family. The love and devotion he shows to me and the kids. His ability to forgive and love.
  • To Tyce’s birth family for the relationship with them that they have given us.
  • My parents and siblings and the close relationships I have with them. The fact that they can love me despite my flaws and set such great examples for me and my kids.
  • My in-laws and the fact that they welcomed me into their family so easily. That I can feel like part of the family when I am with them. For their hard work to build and keep relationships with everyone.
  • Our house that we are building and the many people that have helped make that possible.
  • My uncle for letting us live in his house rent free.
  • My friendships I have cultivated through the years.
  • The list goes on

BUT THEN, I was going to say how excited I was that we were going to have our BIG THREE making his or her way into our lives June 14, 2017.

At least, that is everything I wanted to say…BUT… because life is never predictable, I was only able to get out the generic response, “I am grateful for my kids and my husband.” The end.

But in those few seconds, so much was spinning through my mind.

Matt and I had been preparing an announcement. We had the nursery all designed, we were picking out our new car, because frankly three carseats don’t fit across the backseat of a Subaru. We were as ready as we could in the circumstance.

At 10 weeks to the day, the week before Thanksgiving, I knew something was wrong. It’s hard to explain the pain of a miscarriage to someone that has never gone through it. I had a miscarriage before Taelynn, but it was early enough along I didn’t have to go through the whole process of delivery. This time was a little different.

We went to the doctor to get an ultrasound, but I already knew. Before the doctor came in the room I could hear her tell the nurse that she couldn’t go in my room yet because she needed to get her emotions in check. It was oddly comforting to hear that because when she came in, in full doctor mode, I knew that she really did care. Taelynn and Tyce were so quiet during the ultrasound. It was like they could sense the pain in the room. Because my doctor stayed so professional, it helped me keep my emotions together. The last thing I wanted was to walk through the waiting room of people, with tears streaming down my face. She asked me if I had any questions, but of course my mind was blank. I chose to go home and deliver. I should have asked what to expect, but I didn’t.

Pain is an interesting thing. Because when you feel it emotionally, it somehow changes you physically. The hardest thing about it, is everyone expresses it differently. So comforting someone becomes a case by case basis. And because it’s “just” a miscarriage, and those are common, right? The full weight of the loss doesn’t register with outsiders unless they have gone through it as well. But for us, we knew this baby. We had hope for the future, names picked out, carseats in my shopping cart. I was already stressing about being a mom of three. How was I going to leave the house? How was I going to function? The worries were real. My love was real. This baby was real. It was mine. And now they are gone.

So now I am left going over every negative thought I had during my pregnancy and wondering if I would have been more positive, would that have changed the outcome. I know that isn’t logical, but maybe it is…

The miscarriage happened the same night I went to the doctors. It felt like I was going into labor, only worse because there is no hope through the pain. When someone says a miscarriage is like a heavy period, that is the understatement of a century. I thought I was bleeding to death. It took 5 hours of heavy contractions to pass what was left of my baby. And finally at 3 in the morning it was done. I didn’t even know what was happening. Matt and I were in to much shock to really process or make logical decisions. So now, part of me is flushed down a dirty toilet, because there is no guide to handle anything like this.

We debated whether or not to still go to California. If we didn’t have our kiddos we probably would have stayed home. But, we decided we still have them and we can’t put their lives on hold. They don’t understand what pain means yet, and I don’t want to introduce them to it, yet. So we put on our brave faces, pretended life was ok and we loaded the kids up and went on our way. Trying to avoid facing the reality we were in.

We named the baby Tito. Matt came up with it. Our first baby we called baby T, so rather than calling this baby T2, we though Tito was a little more fitting. Ironically, I have a great cousin somewhere named Tito. I’ve always loved the name, but I thought it would be hard for people to say, so I took it off my baby list. Well, now I have my baby Tito. I had a strong feeling he was a boy. And, he was very much like his daddy because he LOVED fruits and veggies. Junk food made him super nauseous. Except Rice Krispies. Those were always ok!

IMG_8898.PNGMy awesome friend sent me an article entitled “A Woman’s Sacrifice,” by Kathryn Soper. I highly recommend this article to everyone. A line she said really stuck out to me. She wrote, “It wasn’t a waste.” I firmly believe this. I keep telling myself this over and over again, and most of you have probably gotten this response from me when asking if I am ok. It wasn’t a waste. The last two and a half months of my life, I got to be Tito’s guard and protector. Protecting him from the outside forces of the world. I gave him a body so that he can be resurrected one day. Mostly though, he has changed me for the better because I am no longer the Aubree I was. I have more love, more courage and more faith. And I couldn’t have become this person on my own.

All my babies have come to us through a rainbow. Taelynn was my first, coming shortly after my first miscarriage. Then Tyce, coming shortly after a failed adoption. So I have faith that my next rainbow baby is waiting patiently.

I remember a woman saying to my mom, several years ago, “If one of your kids dies it will be ok because you have three more!” It completely baffled me then, but even more now as I look at my two little rainbows that I get to raise and the two others that are close by. Each of them has a piece of my heart and together they make it whole.

Today, I am celebrating Tito. I can breathe a little more today and I am going to make it count. Every child deserves to be celebrated and Tito is no different.

I may not physically have my third little pea, but one day my pod will be full.

TwoPeas-LargeFont

 

 

 

 

2 thoughts on “Being Thankful with a Broken Heart

  1. Love you Aubree. After experiencing my own miscarriage I had someone share this quote with me and it was a sweet comfort to me.
    “First, please know that grief is the natural by-product of love. One cannot selflessly love another person and not grieve at his suffering or eventual death. The only way to avoid the grief would be to not experience the love; and it is love that gives life its richness and meaning. Hence, what a grieving parent can expect to receive from the Lord in response to earnest supplication may not necessarily be an elimination of grief so much as a sweet reassurance that, whatever his or her circumstances, one’s child is in the tender care of a loving Heavenly Father.”
    ~Lance B. Wickman
    Prayers and hugs sent your way lady. Xo

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