This is a guest post written for inclusion in the Pregnancy Loss Week Blog Carnival.  Please join us at Fertility Flower for the week of August 23-27, 2010 where we will be featuring articles, posts and artwork about pregnancy loss.

Losing a child (it’s not just a “pregnancy”) made me thankful, even more thankful than when I finally became a first-time mom at age 33. At least, it taught me to be thankful. With my first pregnancy, I felt “fine” the entire 10 ½ weeks. There was little exhaustion, no cravings and no smells that turned my stomach. I thought I was lucky until I started to spot. Sitting frozen in the doctor’s office, I learned that my baby had passed away weeks before but my body had held onto the little life lost within me.

Mother’s Day that year was unbearable as were trips to the grocery store. Everywhere I looked, there were moms with their children. My arms felt empty and my heart broken. Then a friend told me something I will never forget. She said that because of this experience, there was an angel dancing and singing in heaven, so how could I be sad? That’s what I try to think of every time I miss my little lost one.

A year later at a party, I gagged at the smell of alcohol. The next morning, I dry heaved as I walked the dog…and I laughed about it. I laughed and thanked God over and over. When others fussed about the headaches, puking, joint pain, swelling, etc…I sent a little thank you prayer to God. Every single time I wanted to think “woe-is-me,” I thanked God. I laughed as I dry-heaved and weathered bed rest because I learned the hard way how lucky I was to go through each and every miserable symptom. Now that he’s 2, when I want to scream and run from the terrible’s, I try to always stop and think how LUCKY I am for the child who just wrote on the wall, unrolled a whole roll of toilet paper, let the cat out, threw his plate on the floor, got up at 4am, etc. I am SO blessed to have every minute with him. Life is so precious. You think you know how precious life is but it’s not until you loose life that you really know. And then, all the irritating crazy stuff feels small and unimportant. In reality, they are blessings.

Now that my son is two, there are moments and entire days when I want to run screaming down the street in frustration. On those days, I always try to stop and think how LUCKY I am, how truly BLESSED I am for the child who just let the indoor cat out or colored on the wall. I thank God as I wipe up broken eggs that my little helper “helped” me (next to impossible). I am so beyond thankful for every mess. I know the pain of having clean walls and floors. I know what it’s like to hear a mom complain and think to myself how lucky she is, that I’d give anything to switch places with her. Puked-on hair is such a tiny price to pay. It’s the deal of a lifetime. So, the next time a certain someone sprays juice all over the carpet (on purpose), try to remember…it’s a blessing. Then take a deep breath and be thankful you have it to clean up.

The contributor of this post requested to remain anonymous.