I Cried When I Saw My Newborn Baby for the 1st Time Because I Couldn’t Take Him Home – My Story

After a string of miscarriages, Lyric experiences her first labor and cries when she sees her newborn baby boy for the first time. She gently scoops him up and plants her last kiss because she knows she will not see him again.

I was feeling unusually emotional that night. My husband, Woody, was watching me sleep when I suddenly opened my eyes to his breath brushing against my face.

“Hey, get some sleep,” I told him, and he gently ruffled my hair, telling me how beautiful I looked while sleeping.

“I love your pregnancy glow, Lyric,” he whispered.

I blushed. I teared up. I wanted to hug him tight, but a wall of pillows between us kept me from bumping onto him. It was Woody’s idea because he wanted to protect our baby — at least this baby — because it was our sixth pregnancy after a string of five miscarriages in our seven years of marriage.

Woody loved children and wanted to have as many babies as God wanted to give us. He was ready to go to any extent, perhaps even bring down the skies, to become a father. I was carrying his child, but he was carrying both of us, mom and baby, in his heart. Woody was just… excited beyond words!

Only if I knew all that joy would come to a heartbreaking standstill the next morning…

“Woody, honey… Jesus…” I cried.

My husband came running, and I screamed at him not to enter the bathroom.

“Please, honey, don’t come inside.”

“Lyric, darling, what is it?” he shouted.

But I shut myself inside and wildly cried. I wanted to shut myself away from everything— from my husband, in-laws, neighbors, friends, and everyone I knew was waiting for my child to come into the world. I had a miscarriage. My baby, my tiny life I wanted to protect and bring into this world, died even before he was born.

Was I cursed? Will I never become a mother? I cried on Woody’s lap that morning. He scooped me up, and we rushed to the doctor. Not one or two—we visited around five doctors over the next few weeks after my discharge, and what everyone told me sounded like a funeral hymn to me.

“Mrs. Jackson, these are certain underlying complications involved in your pregnancy,” they said.

It took me a long time to process the several risk factors involved in my pregnancy. I could not bear a baby and give birth normally. Some even told me straight in my face that childbirth would be very risky if I still successfully conceived and carried my pregnancy to term. But I was ready to climb any mountain to have a baby.

Was this a choice fate had given us? Woody and I were even advised to opt for adoption or surrogacy. I knew and had read stories of several women blessed with children this way.

But I wanted to feel my pregnancy. I was...