Seeking Tangibility

I think one of the hardest things in this journey has been a lack of tangibility. Usually when loved ones pass, there are things left behind that we can cling to in times of need. Whether it is a photo, video, old birthday card, clothing, or trinket, those items bring comfort. They allow us to feel a connection of some sort. Sadly, that small comfort isn't possible for my losses.

For both the babies I carried, it was for such a short time that I never got to the part where an ultrasound photo would be taken. For my embryos, I was told the clinic only takes photos of embryos they actually transfer in utero, so since mine tested genetically abnormal, I couldn't transfer them nor get a photo (which I think is completely unfair, but that's a topic for another time). There is nothing to hold on to. No memories (at least positive ones) or memorabilia. All 4 just came and went.

Over the past 2+ years, I have created tangible items to help me feel close to my babies I lost through miscarriage. As you may have read previously, I named them after the flowers for the months they "existed:" Poppy for our first baby in August of 2021 and Hawthorn for our second baby in May 2022. Having names alone give me a sense of connection. The names too have also helped me find earthly items to connect with. I wear my ring everyday that has the two flowers on it. I also commissioned a painting of both flowers and feature it on my blog page as well as my bookshelf. The painting is between two Willow Tree figurines holding flowers in which I wrote each baby's name, loss date, and due date.

Outside of flowers, I was gifted windchimes from an amazing support group called "Untold Stories" based in Maryland that supports women who've experiences pregnancy and infant loss. The music they make as the wind blows makes me smile every time. It's like they are really here with me in those moments. Additionally, I have Christmas ornaments. Hallmark has an annual release of an ocean themed ornament with the year and a small saying about remembering someone you've lost. I purchased the 2021 and 2022 and hang them with love on my tree.

My two embryos are different though. I don't have a due date or even a real loss date for them. The loss of them feels different, yet just as strong. Naming them feels strange because there are two. I can't do September's flower as their names because they shouldn't both have the same. I don't even know the difference between them! All I know is one had an extra chromosome and the other was missing one. My sense of connection is already lacking because I didn't get a chance to carry them or even see them. Despite those facts, I feel like I need a way to honor each.

While I still want to figure out a more lasting way to honor them because they deserve that, I did do something small this weekend. We went to the pumpkin patch and kept with the tradition of everyone getting their own pumpkin. My husband and I each got one and we picked out a little orange one for our dog. I got two small white ones for Poppy and Hawthorn like I did last year, but I also got two even smaller white ones for our embryos. They are a part of me- my heart, my soul, and my dreams. So for at least a little while, I have this display of our family together. I only hope future family pumpkin portraits have some more orange pumpkins in them.