when Sorrow walked with me

My heart has been weighed down with this blog entry for about a week. It has haunted me actually. Needing to be written.  I mentioned in my last post that I’ve suffered multiple miscarriages. So it’s not a secret, but for some reason I have chosen not to really delve into it on my blog.  I think partly because my first miscarriage was so wrapped up in my father’s passing, that I didn’t really process it.  Evan was born a year later, and we chalked it up to one of the very common first pregnancy miscarriages that we’ve read about.

But here I sit four years after that dreadful week where I found out I was pregnant, lost my dad and then lost our first baby all in one fell swoop. Since that point we were so incredibly blessed to become pregnant again (very quickly much to our surprise) and have a beautiful baby boy.


Evan Robert June 2011

We received his diagnosis of Williams Syndrome a year later. Since that point, we went back and forth about having another  child.  The discussion was laden with many factors. Our age, the possibility of having another child with a diagnosis, and my fear of another period of awful post-partum anxiety.  Ironically, we didn’t really discuss the possibility of miscarriage. It may have crossed T’s mind, but I didn’t really consider it very seriously.  I was more worried about what would happen after the baby was here, not the possibility we might lose another one.


If there is anything I have learned in these last 4 years, it is not to count anything out. The good possibilities and the bad ones. The very good and the very bad. I tried so hard to rest in the mystery, rest in the unknown, put it into God’s hands. I had prided myself in losing the need to ask “why” all the time for the challenges in our lives.  I realized that no matter what I did, things were going to happen, good and bad, and I might never know the reason. It’s in God’s hands, I would tell myself.

For whatever reason, God’s hands decided to change our trajectory yet again. He decided to take a second child from us before we could even meet him or her. I am a Christian and darn it, this has tested my faith like nothing else.

I’m pissed. I’m frustrated. I’m devastated. This time around I most definitely am processing it.  Whether I want to or not. As my friend Jamie said, “The universe is making sure you go through it.” She is so right. Beautiful, glowing pregnant women everywhere. Some are very treasured friends of mine who I am thrilled for.  But that doesn’t make the loss of our baby any easier.  Baby showers, pregnancy announcements, smiling babies at Target. National Siblings Day was celebrated all over Facebook the other day. Another reminder that we may not be able to provide a sibling for our son.  Repeated blood work to make sure my pregnancy hormones are going down. Unsuccessful blood draws that have led to repeated visits to get MORE blood drawn.  Weeks of cramping and bleeding after we lost him or her.  I won’t even go into the actual physical process of losing a baby.  It’s horrific. I am conflicted about it because I understand why people don’t talk about it, but at the same time, when you go through it you feel so alone. No matter how many people love and support you.  You are on this island, wanting to grieve your baby and still physically carrying him.  It’s simply awful.

It’s not fair. I want to kick rocks and scream ala Charlie Brown.

Actually, I want to stop kicking rocks and crying. I want to get over this, and move on.  But I know that’s the whole point of crying and kicking rocks. In order to get through grief, you actually have to feel it. Well jeez. That just stinks.  I like to keep moving. To keep busy and focus on the beauty that is around me, not the pain and crappy stuff.  It’s not really part of my genetic make-up to focus on the negative. But it’s also part of my genetic make-up to take care of everyone around me and sort of forget myself.

So…..here I sit. and I walk with Sorrow. And I am sharing it with you because it is the only way I know how to be honest with myself. The days I sat at home waiting to pass the baby, I tried to find blogs about miscarriage that would help me feel less alone, but also give me some hope.  This poem gave a little light to my walk:

I walked a mile with Pleasure;
She chatted all the way;
But left me none the wiser
For all she had to say.

I walked a mile with Sorrow,
And ne’er a word said she;
But, oh! The things I learned from her,
When sorrow walked with me.

-Robert Browning Hamilton

So today I walk with Sorrow. And as strange as it sounds, I feel less alone for it.

24 Comments on when Sorrow walked with me

  1. Lynn
    April 18, 2014 at 4:44 pm (6 years ago)

    You are one strong mama!! Hang in there. Hugs and prayers for you! !

    • Erin Putman
      April 18, 2014 at 7:08 pm (6 years ago)

      Thank you so much Lynn!

  2. Ashley Dunaway
    April 18, 2014 at 5:02 pm (6 years ago)

    Cooper and Evan are brother! Even though these little twins have not met in person I have no doubt that they will be friends and brothers for life. Sending you all the love and support I can muster from Cali

    • Erin Putman
      April 18, 2014 at 7:09 pm (6 years ago)

      Ashley, you are totally right. Our boys are so much more than brothers, they share so much without ever having met! We need to change that one day!

  3. Jen G
    April 18, 2014 at 5:13 pm (6 years ago)

    I miscarried 14 years ago, and never realized before that how deeply one’s heart could break. I found I had an uncanny ability to drive while crying (not that I’d recommend it). I Hope You Dance, was new on the country music stations I listened to at the time, and my heart wrenched every time I heard it… but it is still my favorite song ever (especially for the two babies I subsequently was able to bring to term, and then thought I’d have to leave when I got a melanoma diagnosis about 10 years ago). The website http://www.nationalshare.org was helpful to me at the time of the miscarriage. I also found some books at Barnes and Noble that helped me: I apparently can also cry while reading. Holding you in prayer for all the sweet little ones you’ve mothered, especially those who went to be with God.

    • Erin Putman
      April 18, 2014 at 7:11 pm (6 years ago)

      Jen G, I can’t thank you enough for your kind words and for sharing your story as well. Tears definitely don’t discriminate, they come whenever they please. I will check out that website. Thanks for reading.

  4. melissa
    April 18, 2014 at 5:14 pm (6 years ago)

    Erin, you are a strong and amazing person. And I know there will be many more wondrous and good things to come for you, although you must walk through this sorrow now. Thinking of you and your family.

    • Erin Putman
      April 18, 2014 at 7:13 pm (6 years ago)

      Melissa, thank you for your kind words and support. I don’t feel so strong and amazing but definitely changed. If I can’t learn something from these experiences, they will be for naught so I will try my best. Xo

    • Erin Putman
      April 18, 2014 at 7:14 pm (6 years ago)

      Love you too,Blaine! It tickles me that you read my blog. 🙂

  5. Camille
    April 18, 2014 at 7:06 pm (6 years ago)

    I’m so sorry, Erin. Thinking of you.

    • Erin Putman
      April 18, 2014 at 7:15 pm (6 years ago)

      Thank you so much,xoxo

  6. Colleen
    April 18, 2014 at 7:38 pm (6 years ago)

    Erin, you know my story. I too have had questions that tested my faith and have fought bouts of sadness. Take time and embrace your emotions and feelings. I am here if you want to talk and am sending you love and good thoughts. <3

    • Erin Putman
      April 18, 2014 at 10:54 pm (6 years ago)

      Colleen, thank you for your comment. I appreciate your thoughtful words and the time it took to write them.xoxo

  7. Jamie
    April 18, 2014 at 8:29 pm (6 years ago)

    I find you so courageous, Erin. My heart just aches for you. I envision you facing this massive boulder on your path. Climbing. Slipping. Kicking. Trying again. And before you’re fully over you’re reaching out to give someone else a leg up. How special to share from your place of struggle. Real and raw. I love you <3

    • Erin Putman
      April 18, 2014 at 9:34 pm (6 years ago)

      Jamie, your comment brings tears to my eyes.you always manage to do that, I’m the best way. Thank you friend.

  8. Ashley Huntington
    April 19, 2014 at 11:43 am (6 years ago)

    We experienced a miscarriage before our first was born as well. While we struggled with that some, my greater struggle was the first year after our first was born. The combination of hormones and things not being like I thought, I was under a cloud that first year. A book by Shauna Niequist, Bittersweet, really helped me process and get out from the cloud. It also helped me handle things with Fx better. I mention it because her battle was miscarriages and I thought her journey and processing might be helpful. Her writing is beautiful and she has a sweet way of weaving God’s story into our own. She’s also funny, which is nice. She’s my favorite, so I thought I’d share. Thanks for being vulnerable.

    • Erin Putman
      April 19, 2014 at 4:12 pm (6 years ago)

      Thank you Ashley,I will look into that author for sure. Thanks for reading and sharing your story.

  9. Erin Aiello
    April 30, 2014 at 8:37 pm (6 years ago)

    I can understand your pain, sorrow, and frustration having been through more miscarriages than I can count. You are such a strong person, Erin. You so eloquently portrayed those feelings that I’m sure every woman who has experienced a miscarriage has. Take time to heal and process. It is so hard, but hang in there. Lots of love to you! xoxo

    • Erin
      April 30, 2014 at 10:55 pm (6 years ago)

      Erin, I truly wish we did not have this experience in common. And my heart hurts to hear you have suffered many times. Thank you for sharing with me and for your kind comment. I hope you and your husband are doing well. Hope to see you soon! Xoxo

  10. Kristi Campbell
    May 6, 2014 at 9:09 am (6 years ago)

    Oh Erin. I’m so so sorry. I, too, know the pain of pregnancy loss, and don’t really talk about it on my blog, either. I’m glad you’re kicking the rocks and processing your loss this time, and my heart goes out to you and your husband for having to go through this. There is no easy way. I hope that you find some peace and comfort and know that I’m out here, thinking about you, as are so many others. I’ve heard that it’s 1 in 4. Which means there are too many of us walking around missing the babies we never got to meet. xoxo friend. with a side of gigantic virtual hugs.

    • Erin
      May 6, 2014 at 3:45 pm (6 years ago)

      Thanks Kristi. I hate that so many of us are members of this club. I appreciate your note so much, thanks again for reading. I am accepting all those virtual hugs right now xoxo

  11. Jo Lene
    June 9, 2014 at 2:22 pm (6 years ago)

    Erin, I just read this and I want to say how sorry I am for what you’re going through. I hope that I’ve not inadvertently contributed to your pain in anyway, and I thank you for being so brave to share this as it just reminds me to always count my blessings and not to take anything for granted. I hope you’re in a better place now and I’m thinking of you and praying for healing. xo

    • Erin
      June 10, 2014 at 9:58 pm (6 years ago)

      Thank you Jo Lene. It means so much to know you are reading and sending good wishes. You have not added to my pain whatsoever. I continue to be thrilled for my friends and loved ones who are pregnant or have new little ones. It doesn’t change my grief or sadness, but it also does not make it any worse. 🙂 I am very excited for your new addition. I am definitely in a different place now. The rock kicking still occurs but not nearly as often. Time does heal, no matter how frustrating it is to wait for it to do so. xoxo


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