We were still anxious to try the adoption, until we were told we would have to maintain an ongoing and open relationship with the birth parents, and that the child would likely come from within our stake. Almost everyone in our stake is related to someone else either by blood or marriage, so we have a closed society within a closed society. We felt uncomfortable with this situation.

We decided to forgo the adoption process with LDS Social Services and continue to try to have a child either of our own or by adoption through some other agency. I continued to research treatments, doctors, etc. I went to five different OB/GYNS and three reproductive endocrinologists in the next three years. Finally, in 2002, we found a reproductive endocrinologist who gave us some answers and made us feel that we had a pretty good chance of becoming parents. The doctor performed a laparoscopy and and HSG in September 2002. I didn't expect to get pregnant in October, but I thought I would certainly conceive in November. Time was of the essence--the doctor said that since I was almost 39 and had stage 4 endometriosis (he said it was the worst case he had seen in 25 years of practicing medicine), I needed to conceive as quickly as possible. He also wanted to schedule us for IVF in January 2003. November brought no good news.

I knew I was supposed to ovulate the first week of December, but I had decided we'd skip trying during that month. I teach high school and I had finals coming up, as well as the holidays to prepare for. Also, I had to be in Atlanta during that week to evaluate Schools of Excellence in our state. I had a Junior League meeting one night, Enrichment Night one night, my husband had a school board meeting one night, etc. I don't remember being able to "get together" during that week, but apparently we did. When it was time for my period, it didn't show!! I was ecstatic. I didn't tell my husband at first, because I thought it was too good to be true. I decided to wait until I was a week late to take a test. Then, I thought about stores closing on Christmas Eve starting around 6 pm and not re-opening until the day after Christmas, so at 4am on Christmas Eve morning I went to pick up a test.

At 5:00 a.m., I had the video camera positioned on one tripod and the digital camera on another tripod so that I could record my husband's expression when I showed him the HPT! I don't know now whether the expression was one of elation or sleep deprivation. We both decided we couldn't wait to tell our parents, so that afternoon, we invited both sets over (again, we had all the cameras set up). My mother has ten grandchildren and five great-grandchildren, but I'm her youngest. She acted as if this would be her very first grandchild. My mother-in-law has four grandchildren, but she too, acted as if this was the first.

The next few weeks were pure bliss. I had waited 8 1/2 years for this child. I couldn't believe this miracle had finally happened for us. I felt so good! I had to use the bathroom a good bit, but I was never tired, never anything except deliriously happy. I actually felt better than I ever had in my entire life. When Christmas vacation was over, I let my best friend in on my secret. I couldn't contain my joy, and by the third week back at school, I had told about six of my closest friends and colleagues at school. The third week in January, the endocrinologist wanted to do an ultrasound. He also said we could probably see a heartbeat. I could not believe the thrill I got from seeing the little tiny shape he showed me on the ultrasound picture, which he said was my little baby. He told us everything seemed fine and he would see us in two weeks.

Two days later I started spotting. My husband and his father gave me a blessing (my father is deceased or he would have participated, too). I trusted that everything would work according to Heavenly Father's plan; deep down I knew I would lose the baby. I somehow made some type of peace with that. Two nights later, 10:47 p.m., Sunday, January 19, 2003, I lost my precious baby. When the cramps became so extremely intense, I quietly told my baby how much it was loved and wanted. I said, "Mommy loves you." I had such intense, excruciating pain -- I don't have to describe it because you have felt it too if you're reading this. I was aching physically, emotionally, spiritually.

For the rest of my life I will remember the pain -- not the physical pain as much as the literal emotional pain of having that little life ripped from my body. I went back to school four days later. Many of the office staff and teachers did not know I had been pregnant. I certainly had not told my students I was pregnant, so when I returned, I had to "act normal." When people know you've had a death in the family, they behave a certain way, but because not many people knew, I wasn't afforded the sympathy, the time to get back on track, etc.

At church, people knew we had tried for years. I told one person about the pregancy, and before church was out that one Sunday, half the ward knew we were expecting. Two people congratulated us. When I lost the baby, one person came to see me. No one called. Not one day has passed since January 19 that the first thing I think of is my child that I lost. The last thing I think of every night is that baby. I think about it during the day. I try not to. I've worked very hard at trying to put it behind me. I'm not the first woman to lose a child and I won't be the last.

My brother died in a car accident 8 years ago. People called my mother and tried to console her. They felt terrible that she had lost a son--even if he was an adult with children of his own. I attended a funeral for a 21-year old young man in our ward today. People swarmed to his mother to wrap her in their arms and tell her how sorry they were. Yet when you lose a child through miscarriage, no one thinks you've lost a real child. No one grieves with you.

By the end of February, I thought I was dealing with things pretty well. My brother-in-law called to tell us his wife (a non-member who is rude to everyone in the family) was pregnant and due on August 28. MY due date!!! For the rest of my life, at every Christmas dinner, every Thanksgiving, every anything, I have to see that child and know that my child would be the same age. Doing the same things. What a kick in the pants; weird coincidence. I worked through that.

I was feeling much better about the whole situation and by early June, decided that even if my husband and I didn't have children, we have a wonderful life. The very day of my "epiphany," my husband walked in and told me that a woman in my ward, who has three grown children (she's 41) was pregnant. Big deal, right? That woman is the most un-kind, critical, hypocritical, gossipy, rude, uncompassionate person I have ever met. I had to work with her in an auxiliary for three years, and I felt like I was suffocating the entire time. I prayed to learn to love her. She's unlovable. She's mean. She's hurtful and hateful. And here she is--pregnant. Why can she have a child at 41 when she already has three grown children, and said when she was carrying the last one that she didn't want it? Now I have to see her every Sunday. I swear she looks at me and smiles this smug little smile.

I have planned to go to the temple to pray and try to find some answers. But then I feel that if I have these unkind feelings toward others, I have no business being in the temple. I would feel like a hypocrite. I would feel like I was bringing a bad spirit to the temple. I can't go to my bishop, because he is this woman's brother-in-law. I don't even know who our home teachers are, because we haven't had any in four years. My visiting teacher is her sister. My visiting teaching companion is her sister-in-law. If I attempt to talk to the social services therapist, the entire ward and stake will know. If I try to speak to a regualar therapist, he won't understand the church aspect of things. I don't know who to turn to for help in overcoming this hurt.

I want to believe Heavenly Father loves me and wants me to be happy. My mother hurts for me and with me and counsels me to continue to pray. My husband tries to comfort me. I feel trapped because of this latest development. Why couldn't I have had a healthy child? The closer it gets to my child's due date the sadder I become. I finally decided that one thing that would help would be to name the baby. There is a book, recently published, entitled Wild Card Quilt. On page 47, there is a paragraph that took my breath away. In part, it says, "I know, too, the danger of silence, as well as of leaving things unnamed and unrecognized. By understanding what you feel as love, by naming love, you claim it. By claiming a thing, you give it life. Then when something happnes to yank it away from you, you are prepared for the sorrow that befalls. You are prepared to create anew that which is beloved. . ."

Since I never knew if my child was male or female, I decided on a name that was unisex -- Ashton Kimball (first and middle names). Then, I went to the best jeweler in town and special ordered a beautiful gold charm for my charm bracelet. I had the monogram inscribed on one side and the due date on the back side. I have something tangible to honor the life I held under my heart and in my womb for such a short period of time. There are days when I smell a baby, when my arms feel emptier than usual, when my heart is more empty than ever. I don't know when the void will become smaller, but I hope it will be soon. This grief is so powerful. I try to put it aside, but something keeps happening to rip the wound afresh again.

I didn't mean to write this much. This is the first time I've tried to write anything at all about this. I haven't even written much in my journal. I suppose today was the day to let the floodgates open. I appreciate the forum giving us a place to share our sorrow and turn to other LDS members who understand the eternal nature of things.

--anonymous