In Loving Memory of Jesse Gabriel Kammerzell

Your precious feet left tiny footprints in our hearts...

Friday, April 9, 2010


I used to think of pregnancy with some kind of permanence. Even though I know, you're only pregnant for 9 months, it's a given, a definite, that said pregnancy will result in a child, who, obviously, will be a permanent fixture in the lives of the parents. Right? Evidently not. I have grown to think of pregnancy as more of a slight possibility that it might result in an actual child. How is it that so many women actually are able to carry it to fruition, when I cannot?

Yesterday I had another bleeding episode. The doctor said to watch it and come to the ER if it got worse, and I could come in for another viability check tomorrow (today) if I wanted. I woke up this morning not feeling right. But I couldn't just not go to school, not after leaving in the middle of the day and leaving my mess of a classroom to a saint of a friend who was able to take my class for the rest of the day. I called for a sub this morning, but nobody picked it up. So my friend covered again for me this morning and the principal said they'd figure it out for the afternoon. And off I went to the doctor, expecting the result to be the same as last week. Because certainly it can't happen again.

But right away I knew it wasn't the same. The first thing the doctor noted was that the sac was no longer round, which isn't usually a good sign. And then she searched and searched for a heartbeat. There was none. The little flicker we'd seen only 3 days ago has been extinguished.

My mind is reeling again. Why does this keep happening to us? Am I really not cut out to be a mother? Did we try again too soon? Did we wait too long and now we're too old? Where do we go from here, with the little faith we had left after Jesse's death now diminished even more? Do I dare continue to try to bring a child into the world, or is that just wishing certain death on one after another? There is no certainty, no permanence to pregnancy. More like a shot in the dark and some people get lucky. Maybe I'm just not one of those people.

Don't count your chickens before they hatch.


  1. Karen, I'm so sorry. I don't know what to say. Anything I think of just doesn't seem right. I imagine you must feel helpless, but when I think of all the other women in blog land, how so many keep trying despite the challenges and hurt, I feel I have to tell you not to give up. Your hope will return again, give it time. Us women go through so much and keep on going. Do what feels best for you. Just know that I am thinking of you and hoping that you are coping the best you can. Many warm hugs to you.

  2. xxx I'm here if you need me. So sorry. My heart is broken for you again.