Our Greatest Loss: The Story of Our Baby Bear
by Aundria Martinez, Author of The Faithbook
by Aundria Martinez, Author of The Faithbook
“For this child I prayed;
and the Lord has granted me my petition which I made to Him.
Therefore I have lent him to the Lord;
as long as he lives, he is lent to the Lord.”
and the Lord has granted me my petition which I made to Him.
Therefore I have lent him to the Lord;
as long as he lives, he is lent to the Lord.”
—1 Samuel 1:27-28
The second day the pregnancy test said yes was Easter 2015.
You would be the third added to our family tree,
With two big sisters just waiting for you.
Daddy was excited.
I was a little nervous as I always am.
Time to take vitamins.
Get exercise and drink water.
And don’t forget the doctor too.
There’s a million more things to do!
Tell Grandma and your soon-to-be cousins, tios and tias.
They’re all just as excited to meet you.
But they’ll have to wait till November’s date,
You’re soon to be birthday however late.
Plans were made for Grandma to come.
She would help with your sisters,
So Daddy can be there with us
On the day of your day—
Your birth day of course.
Would you be a boy or a girl?
It’s too early to tell.
You’re eight weeks along and so tiny inside,
But you already make it easy to change Mommy’s mood.
We tried one doctor but there’s no going there.
We left without even being seen.
Did some research and found us another,
But the drive getting there is going to be a bother.
You’re eleven weeks now.
You should show much bigger.
But this new doctor’s staff looks slightly worried.
Your size doesn’t match up for some reason.
You’re eleven weeks but you look only six.
Is there something the matter?
I told myself our timing is off.
Your simply behind,
But can that be right?
The doctor doesn’t think so,
But she wants testing to be sure.
“No matter what happens this isn’t your fault,” she says
“Sometimes things just don’t work out.”
From the doctor we left with no good news in hand.
Off to draw blood and then home to let the disappointment set in.
A week we would have to wait to hear any news
Unless things went without our choosing.
An ache set in
One I didn’t care to feel.
One I didn’t want to feel.
I guess a part of me knew,
Though I didn’t want to.
I went back to work
Back to life.
But my heart was still troubled.
I picked up the phone and did some reading.
Perhaps if I prepare for the worst I’ll be happier in case things are much better.
Instead, worry set it.
My body was starting to show all the signs.
All the signs I didn’t want to.
Within a few days there was a little blood.
“No problem,” I told myself. “Bleeding isn’t always bad, right?”
A cousin of our went several months never knowing.
Her cycle still worked as if she never was,
Till a baby showed up and everything changed.
But the ache still ached the rest of the week.
Its spread to my sides and lower back by the weekend.
I stood doing dishes while your sisters napped.
The pains were faint in the morning but steadily grew all the more.
I prayed and I fussed.
“Oh God if you really must,” I begged out of anger
“Don’t drag this out any longer.
I just can’t take it.”
When your sisters awoke, and daddy came home
We went to the store just as we had planned before.
The cramping grew worse along the way.
And at the store I struggled to move.
My legs, my back
My stomach too.
They were all in such pain,
But my mind was blank as to what we were going through.
On to the next store I ran to the bathroom.
My heart ached more,
Somehow knowing what was in store.
We stayed there briefly
As the pain hurt more.
I had to remember to breathe
As the contractions grew worse.
I regretted not grabbing a wheelchair at the front,
But made myself walk every step of the way.
At check I moved to take a seat at the door.
And moved even slower to the car once more.
On the highway I felt it,
But wasn’t sure what.
We stopped at the 18 Wheeler
To see what was the matter.
It all happened so fast.
I didn’t have time to think until after.
I lost you that instant
And before I could blink you were gone.
I felt you leave me
And you were no more.
I wanted to cry
To break down on the floor.
One minute you were with me
The next no more.
Not many can imagine the pain
The pain that was in store.
I wished I had dreamed it.
I should be waking up now.
But it’s not such a dream.
You’re gone from me now.
I started to cry,
But made myself wait.
To the car I returned
Where my husband would wait.
I was pale he said.
White as a sheet.
All the blood was flushed from my face.
I told him what happened
And crawled back in my place.
For the long ride home
With tears on my face.
I laid on the couch
Tired and hurt.
Your tios took your sisters
So I wouldn’t worry about them much.
The pain subsided till the morning’s light,
When it struck me so horribly
And gave my husband a fright.
To the cold, cold hospital we went,
Where I told the dr’s and nurses our plight.
“What do you mean you lost a baby,” they asked
Like I didn’t know anything of the events past.
“I lost our child,” I told them again.
“Oh, you mean just tissue,” he answered again.
Just tissue?
Are you kidding me?
You were no such thing!
I sat there in anger.
No one would recognize you,
For the baby you were,
The Easter surprise that brought us much joy.
I endured blood tests,
An IV and sonogram.
No, baby was there.
You were taken already.
The doctor came back,
Just as cold as before.
He told me I was fine,
And the “products” inside were done.
I should have corrected him.
Instead I just stared.
I was angry at the name he called you.
It just wasn’t fair.
Our baby you were,
And our baby you’ll be.
Just ask any mother who’s lost a pregnancy.
A baby is a baby, no matter how small.
They tell us not to think that hoping to mask the pain,
Hoping to hide the truth of what you really are.
No matter what they say
Our baby you were,
And our baby you’ll be.
And one day in heaven René Dusten we’ll see.
In Memory of René Dusten Martinez
Lost in miscarriage May 23, 2015
But always in our hearts.
Lost in miscarriage May 23, 2015
But always in our hearts.
All images & article copyright The Faithbook 2015