Thursday, November 27, 2008


Today is Thanksgiving, but I'm finding it hard to give thanks for all things in my life. Instead, I can't get out of my head the thoughts of my baby, long since gone to heaven, who would have been one year and four months today. I know that there are other women out there who feel like this today, and I want them to know that it's okay to feel.

The following was not written by me, but it helped me cry today... something I've needed to do for a while.

A Sisterhood of Sadness

"I was once a member of the Pregnancy Club, my membership card consisting of two pink lines on a stick.

I was eager to pay my dues, just like all the other members. Morning sickness, stretch marks, cravings -- I welcomed them all. But they never came.

And before I knew it, my membership was revoked. No real reason -- at least none I could discern -- other than bad timing, perhaps. Or, at least, that's what everyone's been telling me. That and "God's plan."

Miscarriage is a terrible word. As if one has dropped something, or carried something incorrectly. Similar to "mistake" or "misunderstanding." How I longed for it to be either of those things when I learned my baby was gone. Surely, it was a mistake, I prayed. If they would just look again, they would learn it was all a simple misunderstanding.

But the ultrasound screen showed otherwise.

1 out of every 5 pregnancies ends in miscarriage, say the books. That statistic terrified me when I was pregnant. So many lost babies, I thought. How can I keep mine from being one of them? But now that mine is one of them, that 1 out of 5 seems awfully small. Or, at least, it did. Until soft-speaking female voices started whispering to me in my grief, "It happened to me, too."

Their eyes told me the stories of the pain that we shared, the pain that only a woman who has carried a child - and lost it - could know. For some, it was fresh pain. For others, it was dulled by healthy babies since born.

A sisterhood of Sadness. It's a silent group, this new club of which I have recently become a reluctant member. Our membership cards are the scars we will always carry on our hearts. Our dues are paid in blood and tears. It is a painful initiation, and one never ceases membership. Because one never forgets. I am joining, not because I want to, but because I wasn't given the choice.

But at least I know I'm not alone. At least I know there are hundreds of thousands of women with me, however silent and invisible, quietly holding my hand."

Tuesday, November 18, 2008


We've been working on getting addresses together and our letters sent out to family and friends. I think we're about half way there. We still have a lot of addresses to find, though... I truly hate that part. It reminds me of the tedium of searching for the hundreds of addresses for our wedding announcements six and half years ago. But, of course, I do it out of love. Love for our unborn child who is out there somewhere, waiting to be born. Waiting to come home to Kevin and me to these arms of love and hearts overflowing. And until that day comes, we wait too. I guess we're waiting on God to bring us all together.

I know God has a plan for us. I just don't understand why it's taking Him so long. I suppose it's not for me to try to understand.

While at my parents' house this weekend, I saw a magnet on their fridge that had the serenity prayer written on it. I found myself reciting this prayer repeatedly throughout the day and night and even on our way back into KC late Sunday evening. I've known this prayer for as long as I can remember, and have always known that it had a special import. Even as a child I knew that this prayer was lifted up to God in times of great stress or confusion, but I've never felt as though I needed it. Perhaps I never felt as though I required help to sort things out in my life. Maybe things in my life haven't really been too confusing up until now. Regardless, I've never found myself so moved by this prayer as I have been for the past few days. I think now I need it. I think now that God is speaking in my life. I plan to hold on to this sign from God, to continue to recite it and ask for guidance. Maybe there's something I've been missing for the past five years that has been standing in my way of becoming a mother. Time will tell.

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
The courage to change the things I can,
And the wisdom to know the difference.

Monday, November 10, 2008


Kevin and I are sending out letters to all our family and friends that just talks a little about what we're hoping to do with adoption. More importantly, it includes a "mini profile" that you can keep in a desk or file or dresser until you run across someone who may be considering creating a plan for adoption.

We just ask that as you go about your day at work or church or with family and friends, you keep us in mind if you learn of someone who may benefit from making a plan for an open adoption.

I haven't seen many of you in years, and obviously wouldn't have your physical address. Those of you whom I see often, I probably don't have yours either. I've just been slacking off - that's it - no excuses. So please send me your address. You never know when God or fate or the universe will need you to help ensure that a child is given every possibility for a bright future.

With much love and gratitude,
Gina & Kevin

PS. Please email your address to

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