Hi. I'm Kat. My husband and I found out we were expecting the day after Thanksgiving, Nov. 29, 2013. We were overjoyed. We found out our baby had died January 3, 2014. I should have been 8 weeks, 2 days. The baby had died at 6 weeks 1 day.
What I described above is typically called a missed miscarriage, and you may be more familiar with that term. If you are not familiar with that term, let me fill you in. Missed miscarriage means the baby has
passed away, but remains in the mother's body, while the mother has had
no bleeding, no pain, generally no loss of pregnancy symptoms, and no
idea that her baby has died. This is typically detected during an
Miscarriage is undoubtedly a taboo subject, and it's not something people talk about much. The thing is, that hole in the very fabric of your being, that howling, keening, unanswerable pain in the pit of your very essence, does not go away when everyone else has forgotten about it. I have friends I could talk to, but none of them have ever been through a pregnancy loss. I am a member of more than one very loving, accepting, helpful community of invisible internet friends I could turn to, but I fear wearing out my welcome if I lean upon them too heavily. So I started a blog.
Here, I can dump out whatever junk needs dumping out, and if it helps somebody else out somehow, great.
Finally, for the curious, the name of the blog was taken from a poem on death and greif, A Dream Lies Dead, by Dorothy Parker.
So, hi. I'm Kat. I was pregnant, and then my baby died.