Minnesota Women's Press: What God Is Honored Here?

Native women and women of color poignantly share their pain, revelations, and hope after experiencing the traumas of miscarriage and infant loss

I should have known that babies died, but in 2005, I did not. I remember the nurse’s face when she looked at my ultrasound. I didn’t know I could watch and analyze her face and see my daughter’s death written all over her eyes. I didn’t know that going straight to the hospital meant things were wrong and the sprinting nurse meant things were over. 

I was five days past my due date with my first child. I didn’t understand when the nurse said, “There is no heartbeat.” I told the nurse to revive the baby. 

It is not like I had lived a blessed life, but I had not known tragedy this way. My parents loved me, but I watched abuse and addiction around me. I thought I would be the lucky one. I did not know yet that there are no lucky ones. 

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