“Silent Night, Holy Night…Sleep in Heavenly Peace,” A Tale of Miscarriage at Christmas Time by Jessica Christine Maria

I’ve started this story a hundred times in my head, but have yet to finish it or even come to the computer to start.
It’s not that I was avoiding my grief, but I am angry. Mad at having to put it behind me. That it had to happen. That I was relieved.


It was a tough pregnancy. I was nauseous every day, fatigued physically and mentally. With an attached toddler, I had little time to rest and that’s all I wanted to do – stay in bed. Besides overcoming depression and battling negative thoughts, I was also stressed out about the idea of taking on another kid. I felt angry because I was just getting my body back and my toddler was just at the age where she could play independently and so I had more time and energy for tending to me, myself and my own much needed self-care. But, here I was again: knocked up and dreading every minute of it.

With that confession, so much guilt is released.
I felt so much pain for allowing these thoughts to survive while I still held my baby inside. I feared what this baby might feel if I wasn’t feeding him the love a newfound mother should do. No wonder he decided to leave. No wonder my body rejected him.

A turning point in my journey came when the book “Spirit Babies: How to Communicate with the Child You’re Meant to Have” by clairvoyant/medium Walter Makichen found me. I believe the spirit of my baby boy came to feel the love of his mother, but decided it wasn’t the right time, and left. I believe he will come again. That he is waiting to be born, when I am ready.

Now, I am focused on truly healing my body and mind and spirit.
I plan to be in the best shape so I can avoid another unhealthy pregnancy and hard labor. I want to have a healthy gut, avoid gestational diabetes, actually have ab strength and heal my cervix and entire endocrine system. Now there are some goals!
But I am looking forward to it, so then I can be happy to have a healthy pregnancy. Or at least have the mental strength to choose to be happy and loving.

Like I said, there are many ways I’ve written this in my mind this past year.
Here is my account of that silent, holy night:

At three and a half months pregnant, I was put on bed rest because of a dilated cervix. The first time I passed a blood clot, I went to the ER where an ultrasound was performed. We left with an assurance that my baby had a strong heartbeat. The second time I went to the ER, I was cramping with labor pains, and we waited for an hour and a half before I was sent away after another ultrasound, with the only information they could legally provide – that the heart was still beating.

I saw three different gynecologists and they all seemed afraid to tell me of the possibility that the cramps I was experiencing and the blood clots I was passing (for a whole month) were most likely going to lead to miscarriage. Deep down, I knew. But, maybe they didn’t want the liability?
All I wanted to know was: What if? What do I do if it happens…

And it did.
After two nights of extreme labor pains (and the night before the Christmas party at my in-laws house), I sat on the toilet and he popped out. It was then that I cried the hardest. My mother-in-law came in to cut the cord, and I just fell over – in shock, in exhaustion, in weakness from the amount of blood loss. My husband wrapped my bloody bottom in a towel and carried me down the stairs, into the car and to the hospital. All I can remember is the blood dripping off of my legs, onto the stairs and all over my father-in-law’s car.

I felt the death. It was inside me. This empty womb. The blood, all over my legs, continuing to gush.
I welcomed it. It was organic. My husband must have felt it too because he was guiding me with his voice. “Stay with me, stay here,” he pleaded.
As if I was close to dying myself… but, hadn’t I just died? A part of me, my baby?

Me & My In-laws

Can you imagine your in-law’s having to cancel their annual Christmas party because you miscarried a couple of nights before?
It felt like I was the reason Christmas was cancelled.
After a grief ceremony, where my parents came to say “Hi and goodbye” to their second grandchild, I felt hard, detached, and unwilling to show any one my relief as well as my grief.

I just felt Anger!
I want to blame the medical system’s lack of knowledge, or at being more concerned with liability. Going through a natural childbirth with my healthy daughter 18-months earlier, I was already prejudiced against a system of doctors and nurses who weren’t trained in natural care, just surgical procedures.

The ANGER! At every woman who was sharing her stories of miscarriage. Why now?
Because I had just had one. Now, I was part of the club. Now, all of a sudden every other woman I’ve known has a story to share.
And I never asked to hear it.
It was their way of telling me they understand.
But, this only solidifies my distrust in the medical system.
Why are so many women losing children? Why, if it is so common, did no one inform me of its possibility, or prepare me for it? And, why haven’t millions of dollars been devoted to studies for “why” this happens? The conditioned cultural response to miscarriage seems to be, “Oh yeah, you had one. It happens.” As if no one knows why, or cares to find out…

After a blood transfusion and another month of bed rest, I was able to pick up my 2-year-old daughter again. It felt good that I was no longer sick, even if I was at my weakest, physically. It was time to heal, to rebuild the strength I never had.
If I ever want to have another child, I plan on being at my best. But, even with that determination, I didn’t want to be touched sexually. There was fear every time my husband wanted to be intimate, so I avoided it. I could not enjoy it without being taken back to the silent night on a holy toilet where my body both betrayed and honored me by aborting my son.

Me with my Angel

A year has gone by, it’s Christmas again and I’m back at my In-laws, writing this.
Where am I now on my journey towards healing?
I am obsessed with connecting nutritional unawareness to hormonal imbalances in women.
I am on a quest to help others, by first healing myself.
I am becoming a health coach to help women understand their bodies and minds so that they may find peace around their menstrual cycles. But, first- I must find that peace and self-love.

Until I am pregnant again, or until I become a licensed health coach, every Christmas will always reaffirm these ideals for me.
The son we lost will always be my motivation to live this life that I have been given in the healthiest way possible.

“Silent Night, Holy Night… Sleep in Heavenly Peace” will always bring me back to the baby I lost.
To the one waiting to be born again.

—Jessica Christine Maria


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