real life

this will be a long post.

and, i’m not sure what i’m going to say, but i do know this.
…that writing has always been my “out”…to sort out the beautiful, the confusing, the challenging, and all the love in life…and to fold it into sweet little words to somehow create something bigger. something better.
and i write publicly because this beautiful blog forum has given me so much joy in more ways than one. our new generation can be overly public, yes. still not sure what i think of facebook, in fact. but, i have come to the realization that, at least in blogworld, it is entirely empowering to come together with other women and to dig deeper into what is real in life. i want to inspire and i want to be inspired. what all women want, i suppose. and what all women do. and i feel i have done both more with this blog…and that propels me forward in ways i didn’t know i was capable of. so, i am choosing to do this publicly this time. end of disclaimer. whew. okay.

what i’m about to write is very real. and raw. and i know so many women have gone through it. and it’s part of my story…to pass on to lainey and my family and friends. and telling it is leaping off a cliff…pulling my legs up into a perfect canonball…and splashing into cold blue waters below.

so catch me.

on march 9, after quite a bit of anticipating…i jumped around the kitchen sobbing and screaming holding a pregnancy test with two pink lines. two. after eleven and a half boxes of pregnancy tests over the previous months and all the imaginary second lines i had conjured up in my brain, i finally saw a real one. and it was beautiful…and exciting…and promising of an another amazing happiness i am already blessed to know so well.

i videotaped brett finding out. i called my sister, crying. i layed in bed that night dreaming of cute little ways to tell our friends and family. and that we did. revealing lainey’s little yellow t-shirt i tediosuly painted “soon-to-be-a-big-sister” on, followed by happy shrieks. and hugs. writing in a birthday card to brett’s dad that his present would be placed in his arms this november. and crying watching him smile.

late november…i always wanted a holiday baby, and this was gunna be just as dreamy as i imagined it to be, isn’t it?

even after the first ultrasound when we were told it’s okay…you’re just not measuring as far as you think you are…but there’s the little bean right there. …brett assured me everything was just fine. and so did everyone else. i was tired. and i loved being tired. coffee made me qeasy. and i loved that coffee made me queasy.

…but i think deep down, i knew.

this weekend, we lost our pregnancy.

and yes…warm tears spill as i write that.

…but strangely, i feel peace.

friday morning, i prayed not that God would save “the baby” because i knew what’s done is done, and if there was “no baby” to save, God would not suddenly create one. so i simply prayed for peace this weekend…and that we would get through this.

and i feel this amazing sense of accomplishment. like i have completed a strange but honorable rite of passage through a challenging door of womanhood & motherhood that not everyone has to go through. and i did it. and it’s okay.

i am strengthened by the fact that i am not the only one this has happened to…and this is very do-able compared to many other challenges in life. i am strengthened by the fact that it happened early, and i did not have to feel kicks and leaps and lose not only the dream of this baby but the unspeakable bond heightened with feeling them move within me. i am strengthened by the fact that i felt so completely loved this weekend and that every text you sent…every e-mail…every phone call…every hug…every thought and prayer…you were blanketing us with comfort.

and i am proud of myself. because i am not devastated. i am sad, yes. but i am happy for my blessings, the promising future of more babies…and the incredible weekend i had loving my life.
my neighbors and friends were complete Godsends…and i found myself dancing in my living room to madonna yesterday. yes, dancing. dancing like a crazy woman…and laughing until tears rolled down my cheeks. and it felt so good.

this is what women do. we have amazing bodies that create babies from microscopic cells. and when everything isn’t just right, our bodies take over and do what they know to do. i am marveled by my wonderful body. that it has the cognitive awareness to know that little bean wasn’t just right to grow…and the clockwork capabilities to take care of it…to heal my body and make it perfect again.

and yes, it sucks. it sucks standing in line at the grocery store holding a stayfree bag when a month earlier, i was in that same line holding the box of pregnancy tests that would turn all pink and make me cry. it sucks going in to lainey’s second year scrapbook and erasing all that stuff i wrote about her being a big sister this november. or folding up her big sister shirt and hoping it still fits when she can wear it again. it sucks to lose half your body weight in blood or to have to leave baby gap embarassingly pulling your shirt down behind you because you were stupid enough to wear white jeans when you’re having a miscarriage. it sucks…but it’s real. this is what women do.

but all that aside…we are doing so beautifully. and i’m searching for the devastation i thought i would feel but i can’t find it. sadness, yes. devastation, no. this weekend really has been amazing. perhaps because my senses are so much more enlightened. …i was so open for what the universe had to throw my way…and i was given love…that and life in its grandest form.

and if lainey doesn’t have therapy written all over her, i don’t know what does. my little cubby seemed to know what her mama needed this weekend…and, i swear, i’ve never seen her more cuddly, more loving or more at peace to just sit on my lap with her blanket…to sit and…just be. so, thank you, cubsy.

and i may not be holding a baby this christmas, but i hope to be a house carrying one.

and to any woman out there who has ever wanted a baby…whether your dreams came true or not. whether you wanted just one. or just one more…. there is something to be said about the animalistic primal need to love a little. to want one in your arms so bad, it hurts. it is so very real. …and even though i have one already, there is this instinctual love that already exists for this next one that i want to hold. that want and need to love and nurture…it’s real, you know.

i feel blessed today. and yes…kissing the universe, the stars, the planets and all the beautiful space between. because this? …this is what women do.

enjoying the real life things. ~k

and dot…please pass on to jody…you both have been wonderful. love you and your office. only wish jody could deliver all my babies. xoxo


Leave a Comment
  1. I have sat with others in the crucible of their loss and offered words of comfort and a presence I prayed brought peace. But this is my own. My own daughter and my own grandbaby. It is amazing how quickly our heart stretches to receive them–giving them more room in our love than they even need…but there they will remain, in time-frozen affection. I didn’t think I really felt the loss of this little delicate dream, until I went to say the words, “We lost our baby.” And the friend I was telling took care of me…and I knew that love that I felt from my friend was born from this little one’s brief visit to our hearts. I love Mother Theresa’s promise: “The heart stretched out by sorrow, God later fills with joy.” You and Brett are in my heart and in my prayers. See you soon. I love you.

  2. oh kelle. your words. papa rik’s words.

    i love you and all the future babies you will hold in your arms one day soon.

    agreed…love to the universe.

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  4. Kelle,

    I’ve been here. It hurts. It rips your heart out. Mine was our first child – a girl – at 12 weeks. We named her Alexa Briane. No words will ever make it ok so I won’ try and say to you…It was meant to be or time will heal the wounds, etc. Because in the end, truth is…the wound is always there – always raw – no matter how many healthy children you go on to have. All I can say to you is this…God doesn’t waste pain. There will be years that ask and there will be years that answer…but in the end…GOD NEVER WASTES PAIN!

    As you cry those crocidile tears, no that you have a cyber friend in Indiana praying for you – who has cried those same crocidile tears herself and still does from time to time. The loss is real. The loss is big – no matter how small or how early the pregnancy. Bottom line, the loss is your child. I admire your ability to press on and stay strong. Keep doing that. Turn your pain and your hurt over to God and “make” him lead you thru it. Expect him to lead you. Then, allow friends to lend their shoulders to cry on. Hug Brett and crawl thru this valley together – all the while visualizing the rainbow at the end. A new baby – in your house – by the end of the year. See it, believe it, expect it, feel it, own it!

    We love you! Stay “FIERCE” as your sister’s friend Barb would say. (I’ve adopted that line now too because I love it so much) Ha ha! :) Big hugs to you and your family!

    In his grip, Angie Seaman

  5. Kelle I love you and your post and everything that you are and everything that you stand for. You are amazing because you are you. I am sorry that you had to experience this. There are no words I can say to make it better I can just be your friend and that is easy. And I can tell you that your little miracle you already love will be in your tummy before you know it. I am here for you always anytime anywhere… brunch at Sunbrust, wild crazy nights out, playdates, coffe and bagels whatever you need I am here because I love you and I love being your friend.

  6. “I do not wish to treat friendships daintily, but with roughest courage. When they are real, they are not glass threads or frost-work, but the solidest thing we know.”
    -Ralph Waldo Emerson

    May your friends be that “solid” for you.


  7. Kelle,
    You are an inspiration to your friends, your daughter, all women on this earth. You are so real and open and honest, and I love you for that. And isn’t it absolutely wonderful how our “littles” know the best medicine. I love you!

  8. I am crying…so amazed at how you’ve handled this…so amazed. and LOVE “God doesn’t waste pain… I believe that.

    you are strong. so strong.

    I love you.

    p.s. can’t wait for the phone call again, announcing the news. I will be waiting by my phone.

  9. LOVE

    Love sent to your house tonight,
    you strong, beautiful, feeling, capable mother who savors life aloud so much so that we can all begin to taste it again. Thanks for reminding us to feel – whether it is the good or the bad – and to never stop really living, no matter what.

    You inspire.

  10. Awe sister friend. You are insightful and gracious and thoughtful. Oh, I am crying.

    There are lots of holidays throughout the year to have a bug around. President’s Day is a lovely holiday. And Aquarians are super cool. I’m just sayin’.


  11. Kelle, I am a follower and LOVE your blog and photos, I found your blog through kelly, I did IVF the same time as her. I hope you do not mind my intrusion on your personal thoughts.
    I had a loss in November, and can totally understand how you feel. I have a little girl around teh same age as your wee one and I felt more sad for her, I felt like I failed her, failed to give her the (perhaps) only chance for a brother/sister (as I will NOT do IVF again)

    I admire your strength and your whole outlook on life. keep your chin up and keep being wonderful.
    Take care
    Fellow blogger, Justine

  12. I know you are feeling stronger by the day, but just always know that I will be here for you in the moments when you don’t.

    …or when you need an audience over beers with lime for all of the inappropriate jokes. I’ll go there with ya, and we have a topper contest and laugh til we pee our pants.

    Love you, and all of your past, present, and future babies.


  13. I am so sorry to hear of your loss, Kelle. I too have been in that unfortunate situation. It was my next pregnancy after Cole. I had just begun wearing maternity clothes. I was 12 weeks (I show real fast in my pregnancies). It was heartbreaking. I cried and cried in Chris’s arms and I cried on the phone with family and friends. I couldn’t have done it without them. I am so happy you have such a great group of people to congregate around you and Brett during this difficult time. I know it may not seem like it at first, but things get better and eventually, you don’t even look back on this tragedy. Closure is the biggest thing. My inlaws have 10 acres of land. So we went to their house and buried the baby in their field under a big maple tree. That was very hard, but it was necessary to have that closure. We have peace with it now. I hope you will find that special motherly happiness again real soon. :)

  14. Even though what you are writing is so sad, I feel oddly comforted. I can feel your strength in what you write. Yes, I feel your sadness over your loss, but I feel your hope for your future.

    I love your honesty and strength and optimism. I love you!

  15. Tisha… I think you summed it up very nicely. I felt the same when reading this post…. hope for the future.

  16. Kelle, I did not have the strength you write about when I lost my babies. I wish I would have had your words went I went through losing mine. Your amazing. And inspiring.
    I love you!

  17. i am hugging you now, kelle! i agree that no matter how early or late the loss is, it is equally as real and crushing. may God continue to give you peace, comfort…and hope!!

  18. hi, I just wanted to offer my heart to you and say that I understand very much what it is like to balance the desire for another and the joy of a daughter… I just really appreicate your words and sharing your real life and not just the happy things in life. Love and peace to you always, even at your darkest moments.

  19. Kelle, there is such strength and beauty in what you shared. I am so sorry for your loss.

    You have made countless women feel less alone by telling your story, and I hope it made you feel less alone, too.

    If it would help to read more stories, go to I’ve had mothers who lost babies tell me it was of comfort to them . . .

    A friend of my has a nice blog, too, that may or may not be useful reading: Every woman’s situation is unique, but there can be support in each story.

    Much love, healing and hope to you and your family.

  20. We’ll always be your net to catch you. Once we catch you, we can jump on the net like a trampoline, do somersaults, sit indian style and make inappropriate jokes or pass the box of tissues! We can do whatever we want in your net!

    I love you!

  21. Amy Franckowiak says:

    Kelle, you are the strongest woman I have ever known. You are such an inspiration to me, and your words make the tears just melt down my face. So much emotion, so much love, such optimism in such a trying time. But God knows, the timing just wasn’t right. But that “right time” is coming. And you may just get your actual “holiday” baby after all! A December baby!! I’ll be saying my prayers. My heart goes out to you and Brett today, and every day. I continue to enjoy reading your stories on line each day, and please know that your words, your pictures make me a better, stronger, more loving person. Thank you so much for that. I’m eternally grateful.

    Hugs from Ken, Maddie, and I…

  22. Wow Kel. Your words touch me so much. You are so amazing. I can’t wait until God blesses you with another little angel. Baby Cryderman will be so lucky to have you as a mommy because it will be so loved!! I can’t wait for that!!

  23. Kelle…we’ve never met, but our daughters are nearly the same age and I’ve really enjoyed reading about your beautiful Lainey.
    So very, very often I have marvelled at what an amazing, loving, creative, JOYFUL mother you are. You really do see the beautiful in every day – and that’s such a gift.

    Keep well and keep your incredible attitude, and know that someone up in Canada is sending warm thoughts your way…thoughts of courage and strength and hope, and lots and lots of baby dust.

    Kristy xo

  24. It’s all been said so beautifully…so I’ll just add that I love you so. Hugs and Kisses!

  25. so sorry kelle. just caught up today. prayers for you.

  26. Thank you. Nella’s Birth Story was posted on Baby Center and I haven’t stopped reading, post after post and tearing up picture after picture ever since. This summer, at 26, with my first pregnancy, my husband and I lost our baby… our first baby that we had been dreaming of… at 9 weeks. I am now pregnant again and after a healthy heartbeat at 7 weeks, we have been anxiously waiting for our next appointment, which is finally almost here… Wednesday. I’ll be 11 weeks and hopeful. Reading your honest account of the difficult things you have been through has been inspiring and healing. And I don’t even know you! Thank you, thank you thank you for sharing your beautiful stories and your amazing family.

  27. I LOVE YOUR BLOG! I was led to your blog after my birth instructor posted about it on her blog. What a remarkable story about Nella. She is a beauty.

    I then went to your miscarriage post because I had a miscarriage in October which was devastating, but like you said the love that surrounded us was overwhelming and made is SO MUCH EASIER. We are just hoping hoping hoping it happens for us soon. I ache for that baby that I pray comes back to us soon.

    I love how you said Lainey had therapy written all over her. SO TRUE! All I could think was how grateful I was that I had the most incredible little boy to love on and to help me heal. It took us 3 years to get him to us so I look at him as a pure miracle and treasure.

    Thank you for inspiring me! Your blog is truly a treasure.



  28. Going back through your blog and catching up on all I’ve missed. Thanks for this post. I’ve been through it too, three times. The last one was just a month ago. I have a little munchkin now, and he was my therapy too! I, like you, hope to be a house carrying one this coming Christmas. I am inspired by what I have seen in your life. Thanks for writing this post…I know how hard it was…I’ve written this post on my own blog a few times in different ways. It’s amazing how the writing out of something can help with the processing of it. Thanks, as always.

  29. Another beautifully written post. I too have been thru it 3 times and you seem to have handled it with so much beauty and grace. And about that “animalistic need to love a little…” i have that again now- my daughter is just 2 years old now- and it is a comfort to know that other women feel the same way, despite loving their current little beyond words! Thanks for helping me to feel like I’m not alone in wanting to give more love to another little being without discounting my love for my precious precious little girl I already love so much!

  30. I just want to thank you for how inspiring your blog is. I found you through Donald Miller’s blog. Today I read the post about Nella, and I was completely captivated by your grace! Nella is such a sweetheart. I cried throughout the entire post because I have a sister who is severely handicapped with cerebral palsy. I know the hardships that come along with someone who is a special needs case, but I can tell that you and your family are more than able to love her more than anything. She is an angel, and you’re right about that extra chromosome being magic! She is pure joy.

    I came to this post because I am going through my own miscarriage– on my 25th birthday. I have my first prenatal checkup tomorrow, but I know, deep in my heart, that something’s not right. I just don’t feel pregnant anymore, and I started spotting. I found peace in your post and healing. I thought I had experienced that this morning, and then I had my world shaken by such grief earlier this afternoon. I just couldn’t imagine not being pregnant anymore. It was so new and magical to me; it just felt cruel.

    I am thankful, though. Because God is abundant in his mercy and steadfast in his promises. I now have more time to grow accustomed to the idea of being a mommy. This was a surprise to us!

    Thank you for your blog! I really do love it and might set out to read every single entry. Your photos are breathtaking. Just…wow! <3

  31. I’ve been going backwards through your blog after being referred to it from a friend. I love your wit, your warmth, and your photos. I was struck on this post how both of us lost babies last March. I lost another one in June, but by November, I too was carrying a baby (but I wasn’t as “big as a house”) by then. Just wanted to say how much I love your blog, and how much I love the fact that the internet is creating a online sisterhood for times such as these.

  32. I don’t think I handled my losses with nearly as much grace or hope as you did…as a matter of fact I know I didn’t. But that’s ok. Because another beautiful thing about women is that we all experience our trials so differently and yet hopefully all come out better, stronger, wiser in the end.

    It took me 2.5 more years of trying after I lost my twins before I could finally hold my sweet Oliver and those were often dark times too. But I know now that I couldn’t be a mother until the hurt in my heart from those losses healed. And it did. The babies will always have a place in my soul, but that kind of hurt doesn’t anymore – it’s been replaced by an unending love for them and for the baby I hold today(and oh, please god, for the babies I might still wrap my arms around someday).

    I don’t doubt that the baby you lost helped bring you to where you are today, as mine did to me. And that is a BEAUTIFUL place.

  33. I don’t think I handled my losses with nearly as much grace or hope as you did…as a matter of fact I know I didn’t. But that’s ok. Because another beautiful thing about women is that we all experience our trials so differently and yet hopefully all come out better, stronger, wiser in the end.

    It took me 2.5 more years of trying after I lost my twins before I could finally hold my sweet Oliver and those were often dark times too. But I know now that I couldn’t be a mother until the hurt in my heart from those losses healed. And it did. The babies will always have a place in my soul, but that kind of hurt doesn’t anymore – it’s been replaced by an unending love for them and for the baby I hold today(and oh, please god, for the babies I might still wrap my arms around someday).

    I don’t doubt that the baby you lost helped bring you to where you are today, as mine did to me. And that is a BEAUTIFUL place.

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  35. I wish I had been that strong when I lost my first one, I was 16 weeks. The second one I was much stronger but it was much earlier, only 6 weeks. And my last one was 21 weeks. I was so attached to my little Ruth, but I had the peace in knowing it was better for her. She didn’t have to suffer. Everyone wonders how I am so ok with her passing, but its true, we will try again. Hopefully we are as blessed as you have been as we enter round two of IVF. We should know right around what would have been my due date.

    Thanks for sharing

  36. Picked a random post from the past & ended up here… so very fitting it is almost scary. I had my second m/c in July… have been doing really well but for some reason this week I have had waves of sadness about it. Not sure what triggered it but am grateful that I found these exact words tonight. Because “this is what women do”… you rock.
    Thank you Kelle!

  37. i don’t know if you even read all your comments anymore, you get tons now i know… but it’s like our lives have been paralleling each other for the last 3 years! my son was born in july of 07, i had a miscarriage like you in feb 09, and then our daughter was born in feb 10. i wrote about my miscarriage–

  38. I have followed your blog for a while now. I teach acting for kids with special needs and love reading about yur journey with Nella. I am 15 weeks pregnant with my first child and last week we found out that she has abnormalities on her 16th and 17th chromosomes. The chances of her making it are very slim and if she does make it she will have profound disabilities. My stomach hasn’t grown in two weeks, I am pretty sure she is already gone. I searched blogger at random to see how other women have gotten through their miscarriages and was suprised to see this post pop up. Thank you for showing me that there is hope.

  39. Just found this post of yours.
    I lost my baby yesterday, and feel like you were reading my mind.
    I hope to be as happy as your are now real soon.
    Thanks for your words.

  40. I know this post is old, but I’ve been reading from the beginning so that I can catch up to where you are now. And all I have to say, is thank you.

    Everyday I read at least one post. And today I needed this post more than anything. (If it doesn’t show which post I’m commenting on, it’s your miscarriage post.)

    Today I found out that my much-wanted pregnancy, is an ectopic pregnancy. Today. A few hours ago. I’ve had to go through so much crap today and will within the next month to stay healthy. My husband and I have been trying for almost a year and finally conceived. So both of us were devastated when they walked into the little conference room and informed us that we could not continue with our pregnancy.

    And today, after finding all this out, I happen to read this post. THIS was the post that was up for me to read today. Ironic? I think so. But I wanted to let you know that your words have helped me. Genuinely helped me. I’ve been in so much pain emotionally today and reading your experience and your feelings on your miscarriage gave me hope again, that one day I will hopefully be holding my child in my arms. I’m only twenty-one after all.

    So thank you. I hope it puts a smile on your face knowing that you have put one on mine in the moment that I really needed a smile.

    And in this post you said you wanted a holiday baby. Well, this was my first baby and it was going to be born on December 30th, 2011.

    I’ll keep reading if you keep writing.

    With love and many thanks,

  41. I know this is years later, but I still wanted to send my condolences. Having never been pregnant, never had kids, never lost a baby, I have no idea what you are going through. But I have lost things very close to me, and although I knew it wasn’t meant to be, it still hurt. My mom had a few miscarriages before she had me. She went through In Vetro, and I am an in vevo baby. She had a miscarriage after me also. Finally we adopted my baby sister, and I can not imagine a better family to grow up in. My point is, like you said, God does have a plan. Sometimes it is not meant to be. But that doesn’t mean it still doesn’t hurt. Anyway, this is way belated but I just stumbled onto your blog and am reading all the back entries.

  42. I came across your blog via Mrs Odie just last week, started clicking on a few older blog posts and then started hitting Newer Post. Came to this one, already in love with your amazing photos and outlook on life. I have big crocodile tears welling up for you and am so thankful that the Lord waited and later blessed you with Nella. What an amazing gift He has given you.

  43. I just wanted to say thank you for sharing your story. I lost my first pregnancy in Sept. this year. No one that I know has been through this, and it helps to read other women’s experiences. I hope that I can have a little Lainey and Nella one day.

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