This past weekend I couldn't seem to shake the memory of the time I was kissed by an angel. It was a day I would rather forget, one of the hardest of my life. I am thankful that day is mostly a blur now, but I distinctly remember the comforting, soft, kisses of an angel.
She was an ultrasound tech in a sterile setting. I was uncomfortable in a cold, unfamiliar place. My husband and I were hopeful to see our little baby's heartbeat for the first time. In my heart I knew the inevitable because I just wasn't feeling pregnant anymore. The spotting had started earlier that day. We were hopeful nonetheless. Afterall, I had made it past that "magical" twelve week milestone.
When she started the ultrasound, everything looked as it should. We saw the circular space that held our precious little bean. But something was missing...that magical flicker of a heartbeat. My own heart sank as tears poured from my eyes. I knew she shouldn't have, but the tech told me maybe I was mistaken about how far along I was. I shook my head because I knew. That is when she kissed me. She showered me with kisses all over my face. She hugged me and kissed me and told me how sorry she was.
It wasn't until I suffered my first miscarriage that I realized how very common they were. Did you know that 1 in 4 pregnancies ends this way? I believe it is necessary to raise awareness so that we can be a support to those who feel like they are suffering alone. Here are a couple of helpful links that I love: