The other day my best friend went in to hear the heartbeat of her third child. I had thought many times throughout the day to text her and hear the excitement, but then it was pushed away by playing with my kids or making dinner. It was at this time my phone dinged and I read, “They couldn’t find the heartbeat. I am devastated and heartbroken.” The tears spilled from my eyes and I caught a gasp in my throat. Before I knew what I was saying my five year-old daughter was repeating back to me. “What happened to Kelley’s baby?” “Mommy, what’s wrong with Kelley?”
I have never had someone close to me go through this. I had nothing to fall back on. This experience didn’t happen to a friend that you loved. It happened to a friend of a friend. One in three women miscarries. Most happen between the six and tenth week so some women don’t even know that it has happened. What I found was that half of our friends had experienced this fate in their life and had never uttered a word. It felt like you weren’t privy to the information until you were in the club.
My friend is such a remarkable and strong woman. The next day she took her kids to open gym. I took her gluten-free red velvet cake. I hugged her tight and told her she was amazing. She cried and said, “She didn’t feel that way.”
I cried and she cried and this is what I did for her.
I loved her.