I decided in this blog post to share something that is extremely personal, one of which most people probably didn't know about me. I've had this written for a long time and after two years, I feel I am finally ready to share my story. It is more common than most would think; yet it is something most woman keep to themselves.
Early in 2015, my husband and I decided it was time to expand our family and in February, we became pregnant with our second child. It was around the same time of year that I became pregnant with our first, Courtney, so I knew when to expect similar pregnancy symptoms. I arranged my doctor's appointment to confirm the pregnancy and went about life.
The pregnancy progressed similarly to my first, with mild nausea. Right before my 8 week ultrasound, something felt wrong. I voiced my concerns to my husband, the eternal optimist that he is, reassured me that everything was fine. At the ultrasound, the doctor found a heartbeat but said the baby was measuring small. She ordered bloodwork to check my hormone levels and wanted me to come back the following week for another ultrasound.
My instinct that something was wrong only increased when most of my symptoms had disappeared. Chester assured me that around the same time with Courtney my symptoms had diminished. I waited eagerly for my doctor's appointment hoping for good news.
The day finally arrived: April 1, April Fool's Day. We waited what seemed like forever for the doctor to join us in the examination room. As she entered the room, she explained that my bloodwork came back normal for an early pregnancy and that the ultrasound would give us a better idea of how things were progressing. As she looked at the monitor I could see the disappointment in her eyes. My fears were confirmed. She informed us that the baby no longer had a heart beat and that it had shrunk in size. I began to cry and my shoulders shuddered in grief. I'll never forget how my doctor hugged me and offered a Kleenex and softly explained my options. I chose to have a D&C the following week.
However, the night before my procedure, what would have been our second child was born. It may seem silly but I couldn't see burying our baby without a name. We named it Cameron and I chose to have it rest among my peony flowers that begin to grow every April so I can always be reminded of it's life.
The very next day, I began my painting for the 2015 Arts in Bloom Studio Tour. It was the year we were honoring the Salem Oak and artists were creating works of art with the oak as inspiration. I poured myself into the painting. Literally every moment I had that I wasn't caring for our daughter, I was painting. During the time I spent working on this painting I was able to come to peace with our loss. Concentrating on the colors, textures, and shapes was therapeutic and helped to relieve my grief. It was a very healing experience. Although this painting depicts a historical landmark it also represents overcoming my personal loss. You can see the progression of the painting
here.
A few months later, I became pregnant with our son. Exactly one year after I had my miscarriage, I went into labor. I couldn't believe the timing. While laboring, I thought of the baby we never got to hold and how we were so blessed for our miracle about to be born. The next day, in the early morning hours, we met our sweet rainbow baby, Kent Marshall. He was everything we could have wished for and more.
Please understand, I did not write this blog for sympathy. It is my hope that by sharing my story I can provide some comfort or to let any woman know who is or has gone through a miscarriage that you are not alone. I'm not sure the pain of losing a baby will ever go away but I have come to understand that everything happens for a reason. I am thankful I could and still use the creation of artwork as a way of exploring and working through my feelings. I encourage anyone, at any level of artistic ability, to discover the medicinal properties in the artistic process using colors, forms, shading and textures. It's amazing what can be worked out, even on a subconscious level, when you concentrate of creating something beautiful for yourself.
