Renny and Sarah Black Buddin learned that their long-awaited baby died in the womb at six weeks when the couple attended Sarah's eight-week appointment, where they had hoped to hear the baby's heartbeat. Buddin wrote this week about the experience in honor of National Infant and Pregnancy Loss Awareness Month.
I am not usually one for oversharing, but I feel that it’s important to share our story during National Infant and Pregnancy Loss Awareness Month, with the hope of helping someone else experiencing a similar pain.
On June 6, I found out I was pregnant with our first child.
After pacing the upstairs of our house for about an hour in complete disbelief and shock, it finally sank in: I was going to be a mom and, after many prayers, we were officially starting our family.
The whole process was exciting, other than having to rush to my OB-GYN after a scare at six weeks. Little did I know at the time what a blessing that would be, as I got to hear our baby’s heartbeat and get a sonogram during that appointment.
My husband, Renny, and I kept this impossible secret to ourselves until the Fourth of July weekend, when we told our entire family the wonderful news.
Our baby would be the first grandchild on both sides of our immediate family, so it was a huge celebration. Even though we were only eight weeks pregnant, we wanted to share the news a little early so our family could pray for us during this journey.
Everything was wonderful, until it wasn’t.
Renny was unfortunately out of town for the first sonogram so, on July 5, we went to our eight-week appointment together, overflowing with thankfulness and joy. Usually, Renny hates waiting in doctors’ offices, but he didn’t care that day because he was about to hear our baby’s heartbeat for the very first time.
It slowly sank in that something was wrong when my OB-GYN grew quiet while she searched for a heartbeat. She then had the devastating responsibility to share with us that our baby stopped growing at six weeks, and there was no longer a heartbeat.
To say we were heartbroken is a gross understatement. I try to be grateful for every memory and experience, but the one I wish I could erase is the look on Renny’s face after we heard the news.
The weeks following our loss were only what I could describe as bleak and seemingly hopeless. I thought the worst part would be giving birth to a baby that we we were not able to keep. But what I did not realize was that the ripple effect afterward was much worse. It was telling our loved ones that we lost our baby after just announcing we were pregnant. It was being asked while getting my Rhogam shot at the hospital if I was excited to feel my baby move around. As they were not privy to our loss, they mistakenly thought I was still pregnant.
It was watching other couples announce their due dates and genders around the same time we would have; and dodging questions from people who innocently asked when we were starting our family for fear of completely falling apart.
What I think some people who have not previously experienced this type of loss do not realize is that it is not just heartbreaking for the wife. Renny was placed in the impossible situation of helplessly watching me endure these physical, spiritual and emotional hardships that completely broke me, all the while knowing there was nothing he could say or do that would change our reality.
You see, my husband is a fixer who was faced with an unfixable problem.
He had to be the strong one in our marriage, while enduring all the same hardships, but instead choosing selflessly to drive privately so that he could focus on supporting me.
But I wish that men would break the silence about miscarriages just as much as women, so they can support one another, too.
If this gloomy cloud had a silver lining, it was that we have had to rely solely on God’s strength. Honestly, the suddenness and hurt from our loss did not give us any choice. Renny and I both work from home now, which meant we were faced with the reality that we could not delay grieving our baby with distractions like going to work. My faith has been tested in ways that I could not even imagine.
How could I simultaneously be genuinely thrilled for my friends who announced they were having babies while also feeling heartbroken for our incomplete family at the same time?
Why would God want our baby in Heaven when he or she would have been so incredibly loved here on Earth?
How do people that do not want children get pregnant easily and give birth without complications, when others like us struggle to start a family?
With all these questions, Renny and I turned to the only source we knew would have the answers: our loving and merciful God. Through daily devolution’s, our loved ones and many prayers, we have finally started to heal. But it will be a hurt we carry in our hearts forever.
When I contemplated if I should share our experience or keep it a private family matter, I realized that I wanted our baby’s life to be acknowledged and honored. I know that we are not the first family to experience this pain, nor will we be the last. But I want to turn this experience into something positive. I know in my heart that we experienced this pain for a reason: to strengthen our relationship with God and to support and help others who have experienced the same pain.
Today, we light a candle to remember our sweet baby, who was too beautiful for this Earth, and to stand in solidarity and support for other families who know our grief all too well. If you are struggling with a similar loss and need someone to listen who can at least partially understand, please do not hesitate to reach out to me or Renny for support.
“The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in Him, and He helps me. My heart leaps for joy, and with my song I praise Him.”
- Psalm 28:7
Sarah Buddin Black, a native of Greensboro, North Carolina, is married to Manning native Renny Buddin. Both sides of her family have lived in the Manning area, and she and her husband frequently visit.
