Jessie’s Story
I remember talking to a friend after my first loss, wondering aloud if I would always tell people when they asked how many children I had, that I had one in heaven. She told me, “I am sure when you have one on your hip, and one grabbing your leg, that you won’t feel like you need to tell people.”
It was intended to comfort, but she was wrong. My hope babies, are all a part of our family in both my mind and my heart. They left much too quickly, and the scars I had on my heart remain. Scars from two losses in a row and a third a few years later, from the callous things people said to me, and from trying to pretend to be okay for too long until it all fell apart. But they are healing. I am finally being me when it comes to my babies in heaven. I cry about them still. During my third pregnancy, a pregnancy wrought with fear and grief and hope, I cried often, thinking about how Sofia wouldn’t get the chance to grow up with her brother and sister, and that she never got to know them.
I struggled with depression after losing my first two babies. I didn’t know it and wouldn’t admit something was wrong, but I buried my emotions deep down inside so that people wouldn’t act like something was wrong with me. We didn’t have definitive answers for why we lost them, just guesses. That ate away at me, as did the thoughtless things people said to comfort me, and the women who were having babies all around me without a second thought.
It all came to a head on the day before what would have been our first hope baby’s first birthday. My head had forgotten that her birthday was coming, but obviously the weight of that day was carried somewhere inside of me because I started having seizures. They weren’t real seizures, but a stress reaction caused by trauma— a symptom of PTSD. I had them almost nonstop for two days, and the only way I could avoid them was by crying. It was all very ironic and obvious—my body could no longer handle me holding in my emotions and pretending to be okay. I could no longer physically function without releasing my grief, anger, and disappointment.
That was when hope came.
I had joined Hope Mommies a few months before, and hearing everyone else’s stories helped me cope. But the relief of having other women understand not just my loss, but the stress I felt by trying to live up to a standard with my grief was what really connected with me.
I had known and believed God to be sovereign through this whole experience, but losing my children caused me to take a long hard look at my faith and what I believed about God. I told my sister recently that I believe that even though we live in a broken world where bad things happen, I believe that God uses those experiences as ink to write a letter to us of His love and compassion. He started writing mine as soon as we lost our daughter, Hope, but I had so much trouble seeing the words for so long. I knew it was there, but it was not in focus. His compassion towards me seemed too fuzzy to comprehend.
I joined a Hope Group in the fall, and talked to other women with similar stories about how hard it was, and how to find God in the pain. I went through some counseling and identified times that I felt let down by God. I chose to let them go. Then, I started encouraging others—the friends I had made through the Hope Groups, and the women I found out about who lived in my area.
I started reaching out to women who had experienced this type of loss, and I found great purpose and encouragement through standing with them. I became more of the woman that I hadn’t been able to see in the midst of my losses, the one who was shaped into a better, more loving, and empathetic person through them. We still celebrate our children. We will always include them in our family, and the impact they had on me is one that has broken me down and allowed me to be rebuilt into beauty from the ashes.
- Jessie
Hope Mom to Ethan and Hope and one precious baby
Jessie Vazquez is a wife to Jonathan and mother of six, three born in heaven, and three here on earth. She enjoys cooking and eating, and sharing the hope of Christ with people she meets.
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