Tomorrow it will be three years.

October 29, 2016 was the day we lost Hazel.

There are moments when I see a child around the age she should be and my mind wanders to the “what ifs.” What if we could have saved her? Would her hair have been brown like C’s? Her eyes blue like the boys’?

A few months ago, C asked about her. Didn’t you have a baby in your belly that died? Yes sweet girl, I did.

The boys were surprised, but then they weren’t old enough to understand what was going on three years ago. Somehow C remembered, at least a little bit.

They asked me a million questions, none of which I wanted to answer, but all of which I did the best way I could.

Would it have been a boy or a girl? I don’t know, but I like to think girl so C would have a little sister. (That’s why we named her Hazel. The morning we lost her, we were discussing names in the waiting room of the ER as a way to distract me from the pain.)

That baby is in heaven, right? Yes, and one day we will meet her.

How did the baby die? She was in the wrong place in mommy’s belly and she was in that wrong place too long.

Did it hurt? More than you can possibly imagine.

Did you almost die? Yes and no. If I hadn’t already been at the hospital when the ectopic ruptured, I might have. But God had me exactly where I needed to be. (It was definitely the closest I’ve come to dying.)

I hope one day science finds a way to save ectopic babies, so other mothers don’t have this same story to share. I want theirs to be a happy ending, a heartbeat, and a safe delivery. But until that day I’ll share my story so they know they aren’t alone.

³ Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, ⁴ who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. ⁵ For as we share abundantly in Christ’s sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too. ~2 Corinthians 1:3-5 ESV