My Baby Josiah

I was only 4 weeks along when I found out that I was pregnant.

The very next day, I began bleeding and cramping heavy. Blood tests determined that I was no longer pregnant.

I thought it would be a little difficult. All the statistics say that his heart wasn’t even beating. That he wasn’t even a baby.

It was a chemical pregnancy. It happens all the time.

I don’t know how to grieve. My brain says I shouldn’t be sad. I feel guilty for grieving for a child that I didn’t know. I feel guilty that I am grieving, when I have 4 other healthy children. I am a foster parent. I barely knew I was pregnant.

I don’t know how to feel. I don’t know how to grieve for someone I didn’t know.

I swear, I thought I could handle this. I thought I was stronger than this.

I call him Josiah. I don’t know why. That isn’t a name my husband and I had decided on. It’s just the name that came to my head when I think about him.
I don’t call him a chemical pregnancy.

I call him my baby. I know I will see him again. But, I do wonder when the pain will ease.

— Jessica

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5 Comments
  1. I want to thank you for this post. I lost my baby at 6 weeks to the day (exactly a week after the positive test), and I feel like I am constantly judging myself for my grief. I know that I wasn’t far enough along to even consider it a fetus, much less a baby, but I still miss it. Sometimes I beat myself up, because I’ve had friends that have lost full-term babies, and that seems so much more severe. But your post has reassured me that I am not the only one that grieves for what could have been, even though it was still so early, and that no one is judging me for my pain. So, thank you for writing this, because I feel that you are speaking directly to me.

  2. I also want to thank you for your post. I too suffered a miscarriage just Monday. I found out I was 4 weeks just the Tuesday before. Everything you said was like you took the words out of my mouth. I don’t know how to ease the pain. As I’m drowning in my sorrows, everyone else seems to be ok. This lonely world doesn’t seem so lonely after reading your post. Thanks again Jessica.

  3. First of all, I am sorry for your loss. And it *is* a loss, and you *should* feel grief. Whether your child was a part of you for a few hours, a few days, or a few months, a life is a life. That child was conceived, that child was desired, and that child would have been loved. Don’t let yourself feel any guilt over grieving for a little life you won’t know on earth!
    I, too, lost an early pregnancy. I also gave him (her? who knows, but I call him a boy) a name – Ryan. It has been 8 years since I lost my little love, and yes, the pain does ease…eventually. But I still think of Ryan often; I wonder how he would have fit in with the other kids in the family; I wonder if he would have been more like my spunky daughter, or my serious son, or my crazy-climb-it-all son, or my climber. Or would he have had a personality all his own? But I also took steps to make it easier to grieve. I gave him a name. And then I named a star for him, so I can look at the heavens and think of him there.
    I also had the sad experience to lose a nephew at birth. And, although I felt *very* guilty, I also mourned the fact that most of my family had already forgotten Ryan, but our dear Josiah got a funeral, and a grave. Seems silly, doesn’t it? Seems like we should never feel that way; that my brother- and sister-in-laws pain must be so much worse than mine and I should be ashamed of feeling almost jealous that they got a more real way to mourn their son, right? Well, maybe a little. But after letting myself think about it for awhile, I decided it was just a normal part of grief. Would I have chosen to carry Ryan full-term just to lose him at birth? I don’t know. Maybe God really did know better than I. But my baby is no less of a baby and no less of a loss.
    So even though, sometimes, early losses seem “better”, PLEASE take the time to truly grieve your loss. Name a star, plant a tree, do something that will always remind you of the child that might have joined your family, and then try to remind yourself that you will meet him someday, and look forward to it with joy.

  4. I know how it feels. I lost my Jonah at six weeks and five days. The doctors always called him “the product of conception” or sometimes even “what was in there.” No one else in my life understands how he was so much more.

    I’ll love him for always.

  5. I feel better to know I’m not the only 1 who has suffered such a traumatic experience,I went threw what Josia mummy went threw,the only difference was that I was 6 weeks when the bleeding started,I keep a journal just for my baby where I put down how I feel,what I expected,who I think my baby would be and what he would be like,I miss him,I feel like a part of me left with him,I know I will see him someday in heaven,I still love him and I will always consider him as my child,this happened on Saturday the 23rd of feb 2013 and I’m still grieving but now I’m beginning to find peace in my soul and heart,that way I know my baby is tucked in gods hands waiting for mummy to hold him someday….. I will love you in life and in death you are my angel…..MASON!!!!! <3

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Unspoken Grief is a non-profit website dedicated to creating awareness and resources for anyone touched directly or indirectly by miscarriage, stillbirth or neonatal death.

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