I was about seventeen when my mother had a miscarriage. She’d recently remarried and she and my stepfather were very excited about her pregnancy. At seventeen, I was more concerned about parties and drinking and being cool to really understand what all the fuss what about – until the day my mother said she was spotting heavily. A trip to the doctor later, she retreated into her bedroom with my stepdad.
I remember sitting in my room waiting for her to say something, but my mother’s grief was private. In the morning, she told me she’d lost the baby. And this wasn’t the first one. My older brother, Robert, was born premature at seven months, and back in those days, the technology just wasn’t there. She rarely talks about it, but she does say his name now and then, and me being very close to my brothers, I always wonder, what if…?
This month is Pregnancy & Infant Loss Awareness Month, and infant loss is something I talk about in my latest book, Everything She Ever Wanted. I never planned to have infant loss as part of my stories – and definitely, not as a plot device – but sometimes, characters take over the story and when they do, I let them call the shots. And in Everything She Ever Wanted, Harlow James called every shot, and I just wrote her story, one that included so much loss that I had to turn to the hero, Dax Drexel, for he was the rising sun to her darkest of nights (and mine!).
While browsing through Facebook this morning, I saw this:
For those who had to say goodbye too soon, you have my heart.