by Julie Kohl – ARWB Content Cultivator & Calendar Girl
May is a special month for women, especially mothers. In May, we celebrate Mother’s Day and here at Arkansas Women Bloggers we are celebrating the Women Who Inspire Us and the Power of Women’s Voices. Over the next few weeks we will hear from several amazing women that live right here in Arkansas. They will make us laugh and make us cry and will inspire and empower us with their voices.
Having recently experienced one of the most tragic events of my own life, I hope you will not mind that I (Julie) have decided to open this months theme with my own voice. I do not claim to be inspiring or powerful but I hope you will find something of merit in my story.
After many years of trying to conceive, my husband and I lost our first child to miscarriage on March 18th. The days and weeks that followed were tough (still are) and went by in a blur. My body had fought being pregnant but fought being “un-pregnant” even more.
Surgery, multiple rounds of ‘labor inducing’ drugs and weeks of bleeding and my body would not release the pregnancy tissue. In fact, if I were to take a pregnancy test today (45 days later) it would still be positive. How’s that for a slap in the face?
If you have never experienced a miscarriage, I pray you never do. If you have, you know and can sympathize with the fact that it is one of the most confusing, disheartening, and tragic things you will ever experience.
I have spent the last month and a half searching for God, searching for closure, searching for a way to feel right in my own skin again. There’s a feeling of loss but I have nothing to hold onto. No photo, no lock of hair, no tiny clothes that hold my babies scent. All I have is a feeling of emptiness and fullness all at the same time. It’s a feeling I can’t explain and don’t understand. There are so many questions that may never have answers.
So what do you do in a time of tragedy and loss? I write and I paint.
Here is my story in words and in art.
Am I a mother?
Written by Julie Kohl
Painting by Julie Kohl
I once had a child
But it’s not on this earth
It’s heart never beat
And I never gave birth
I hope and I prayed
And I wished all the same
But that glorious day
It just never came
They said it was gone
But it’s hard to believe
We wanted it so badly
How could it leave
But God He has plans
That are bigger than ours
He loves us more
Than the number of stars
Still I can’t help but ask
Am I a mother?
Oh dear lord
Please bring us another
This child that I love
I will never hold
But I will cherish it deeply
Until I grow old
I know someday soon
There will be little feet
Tiny little hands
And kisses so sweet
But until that day comes
I can’t help but wonder
Was it all just a dream
Or am I a mother?
Yes you are a mother. God chose to put that child in your womb .. And he knew everything about that child while it was inside your womb.
I also have bad a miscarriage .. Only mine was at 7 months along .. It still hurts and I still cry but after a while you learn to control the tears.
I know you wonder where god is. I did.
He is there. And he has a plan.
Lean not on thy own understanding
Just have faith and loyalty to god and your husband (because he will grieve in a different way and probably at a different time than you will)
Sorry for writing a book and celebrate Mother’s Day because you are a mother of something so precious that god took him/her early!!
I too know the emptiness and fullness at the same time. My heart goes out to you. You can’t really explain it to someone who hasn’t experienced it. Maybe if you haven’t, it would be good to visit a grief support group? http://www.nationalshare.org/AR.html I went a couple of times here in NWA with a friend whose daughter was born and passed away just 12 hours before L was born, and it is very good to talk with women who have experienced loss as well. Also, I’m sure many of us here would just listen when you need to talk.
My thoughts and prayers are for you and your family.
Oh sweet friend, you know how much I love you. You know that I know exactly how you feel. Always here for you and one day expect to be your babies Godmother!
Julie what a beautiful post. I’m so sorry for your loss and the challenges your body has faced since. My thoughts and prayers are with you and your husband.
Julie, you will probably never experience a greater sadness or more pain than losing your precious child. It will take time for your body and heart to heal. Only a mother can feel grief like yours. Some remembrance for your baby that you can see would be good, I think. A tree to plant, a soft blanket, or a stuffed animal might be items you could consider in remembrance. Your body will eventually heal, but a mother needs to remember. I am so very sorry for your loss.
Julie, So sorry about the loss of your pregnancy. I know that infertility struggles suck and that your baby was oh so wanted. I love your painting. Thinking of you.
What a beautiful, heartfelt post. I am so sorry for your loss.
Oh, Julie – I am so sorry for your loss. I also lost my first child, and I remember well the strange limbo, the need to find some concrete thing to ground me in the experience.
That was 16 years ago. It gets easier, but it doesn’t stop mattering. I still have revelations about life and self from things I learned during that pregnancy. I was thinking recently about how my children, my living children, ages 9 and 12, have impacted my life, and I realized that perhaps nothing has changed the course of my family’s life more than that first child – in preparing for him, I experienced a fundamental shift in my priorities, where I wanted to live, what I wanted to do with my life. When he was abruptly gone, I did not go back to my old way of life. The things that had lost their meaning when I became an expecting mother, things like my glamorous but demanding job and the competitive graduate school I was attending, did not regain their meaning when my child was gone. My mother-ness did not disappear with him. That was the confusing part. This is a revelation that took over a decade. I am still learning from that child, just like I learn every day from Max and Cecily.
Your words sound like the words of a mother to me, Julie. I do hope you find some peace in the weeks and months to come, and that your mother’s love continues to grow in beauty.
What a beautiful way to to express your feelings. Thank you for sharing your personal pain through poetry with all of us.
Hugs and prayers for you!
Oh Julie, I read this last week and wished to reach out and hug you thru the screen. You are very MUCH a mother. You always will be from here on out. I pray for you healing of body and heart in these weeks to come. Thanks for sharing such a personal story with us, it is beautifully written.
Love,
Amanda
Your poem and painting are incredible. I’m so so so sorry for your loss, and yes… you are a mother. Of course you are.