Yes, there are lots of missing people if a zygote is really a person

It took some research, but I think I tracked down the correct e-mail address for the author of the editorial referenced in the first paragraph of my letter, below. I sent this letter to him today, but I am publishing it here as well. 

Dear Dr. Nash,

I'm hoping you're the same Dr. David A. Nash who wrote the following editorial in the Lexington Herald-Leader ("Lots of missing people if a zygote is really a person"), found here: http://www.kentucky.com/opinion/op-ed/article72132087.html.

If not, feel free to ignore this e-mail. If so, however, I wanted to share my experiences with you.

First of all, I absolutely agree that there are a lot of missing people if a zygote is really a person. Death has always been a part of life. In years past the death rate, especially for infants, was much higher than it is now. For example, in 1850, the mortality rate for infants was 216.8 per 1,000 babies born. (Source: https://eh.net/encyclopedia/fertility-and-mortality-in-the-united-states/) Do you think that infants weren't people back in 1850 since so many of them died of natural causes in their first year of life? 

Secondly, in your editorial you said the following, "We do not designate the results of such spontaneous abortions as 'persons' nor grant them the respect routinely given 'persons,' by naming them, providing a respectful burial or including them in our population and mortality statistics."

It's interesting that you say they are not including in mortality statistics after quoting pregnancy loss statistics! Those seem to be mortality statistics. However, the fact that they are not included in infant loss statistics does not mean that unborn children are not actually persons -- it only means that they are not (yet) considered persons by our government. That was also the case with slaves in 1835 (they were only considered 3/5ths of a person for tax purposes), but I think you would agree that they were, objectively, persons even if the government did not legally regard them as such at that time.

I have had one spontaneous abortion and three missed abortions (or, as I prefer to call them, miscarriages). All of my deceased children have names, Dr. Nash. They are Noel, Chris, Francis and Jude. Noel, Francis, and Jude died at 12 weeks gestation. Chris died at 5w6d. Three of them (Noel, Francis, and Jude) we saw via ultrasound. Two of them (Francis and Jude) had strong heartbeats at 8 weeks gestation, but had inexplicably died at 12 weeks.

Three of my children are buried in cemeteries, with grave markers. Noel is buried at Holy Cross Cemetery in Fargo, North Dakota. Francis and Jude are both buried at Holy Cross Cemetery in Avondale, AZ. We had funeral services for all three. We weren't able to bury Chris, as my miscarriage happened late at night in the emergency room and my husband and I were too shocked and overwhelmed to attempt to save his or her remains (that miscarriage remains my only "natural" one  -- I've had D&Cs for the other 3, as their deaths were diagnosed via ultrasound). But we had a memorial service for him or her, anyway. I've uploaded several pictures of the graves and funerals we've had for our miscarried children so you can see that they were, indeed, mourned and buried: 

Noel's grave, Holy Cross Cemetery, Fargo, ND

Francis' burial, June 2015

Jude's burial, October 2015

Francis' gravestone

(added 5/9/16) Jude's gravestone, next to Francis'

Also, miscarried children are provided a respectful burial. At the time of my most recent loss, my husband and I were given a paper stating that we had three options when it came to the disposition of Jude's remains. We could let the hospital handle the disposition and choose to have the remains cremated and interred either at the local Catholic cemetery – in fact, in the exact same section in which we had buried Francis – or scattered in the Superstition Mountains. The paper stated that this would be done in 30 days’ time. We could also choose to have the remains released to a local funeral home, or we could choose to have the remains released to us (we chose the latter option so that we could have private services).  

It's not true at all that miscarried children aren't given proper burials or funerals. Many are, and many parents wish they could bury their children but don't know how. However, a proper burial isn't what determines whether or not humans are persons. Even genocide victims thrown into unmarked mass graves were persons, even if their oppressors did not believe so (and even if the oppressive government did not legally consider them persons). 

There's objective criteria for personhood (see here, for example), and unborn children meet that criteria even if our legal system hasn't quite caught up to that fact yet. 

My lost children were people, Dr. Nash, just as much as my five living children are people. I mourned their deaths when they happened, and I still mourn them every day of my life. They were human beings by all scientific criteria, and they were persons by all subjective philosophical criteria. The fact that they were unborn and not born doesn't change that fact. 

If you'd like to engage on this topic further, I'm more than willing to do so. I think it's an important discussion to have. But if not, that's all right too. I just wanted to set the record straight regarding some of your comments.

Sincerely,

JoAnna Wahlund

Another Saint in Heaven

I hate to break my blog fast with bad news, but it's 2:30 in the morning and I ate too much Halloween candy before bed. That's not the bad news, that's just the reason I'm blogging at this hour. Also, I apologize for the stream of consciousness blogging that will follow, I just need to get all of this out but I don't think it will be very coherent.

We have another Saint in heaven. Ironically, looking back, I believe I tested positive exactly 2 months before I miscarried. I conceived around August 15, tested positive around August 28, and on October 28 we found out our sweet baby had died.

It is such a baffling loss. I had two prior ultrasounds this pregnancy, one at eight weeks and one at ten weeks. Both times, the baby was measuring right on target and had a beautiful heartbeat. I could even see him or her wiggling around. 

Our ultrasound at eight weeks

Our ultrasound at 10 weeks

Then, at what was supposed to be a routine prenatal appointment at 12 weeks, my midwife could not find the baby's heartbeat on Doppler. She wheeled in a portable ultrasound machine and did a belly ultrasound, which showed a baby about the right size but too still, and no flicker of a heartbeat.

Even so, we held out a thin shred of hope. The portable ultrasound machine was old and fuzzy, so she sent me to a nearby radiology practice for a better quality ultrasound (the practice I go to does have an in-house, high-quality 3-D ultrasound machine, but the tech only works Mondays and Fridays, and this was a Wednesday). 

But our hope was extinguished. Although the baby was measuring exactly the right size for his or her gestational age, there was no heartbeat. Our baby had died.

Baby Jude, 12w4d... too still

I had a D&C the following day. I briefly thought about taking pills to induce labor instead, and delivering naturally, but I couldn't bear the thought of going through all that pain knowing it would end in heartbreak. Or miscarrying at home with the children around. Or having to deal with the baby's body myself. Also my doctor usually recommends a D&C if the pregnancy has progressed past 10 weeks, as he has observed a higher rate of complications with miscarrying naturally past that point. 

Once again, I went in for surgery. Many of the same nurses were working in the surgical department and remembered us from June. They were shocked and sad to see us return. 

And once again, we have had to bury another baby. The same section of the same cemetery, the same deacon performed the service, and we even had several of the same friends present. The same tiny casket, with the same little blanket covering it. 

We named the baby Jude, since we found out about his or her death on the feast day of Saint Jude, patron of impossible causes. I had just finished a novena to him on the day of my appointment. In the time between my first and second ultrasounds, I begged St. Jude for a miracle, but it was not to be.

I am having a much harder time with the aftermath of Jude's loss than I did with Francis'. With Francis, I was able to accept his or her loss as a fluke. Granted, I had had two prior miscarriages before Francis, but they hadn't been consecutive. I've brought five healthy babies to term (Peter's birth defect notwithstanding). I thought, surely, my "pattern" would hold and my miscarriage would be followed by a full-term pregnancy. I even began making plans as a portent of hope - discussing names, hiring my doula, planning for maternity leave, even unpacking my maternity clothes. I had started wearing some, as my regular clothes were starting to get tight.

But my hopes were dashed, and it was made even more inexplicable by the fact that by all accounts the baby was healthy and thriving throughout most of the first trimester. I had much less nausea than usual, but I attributed that to the fact that I was taking some additional vitamin supplements. Plus, I had had terrible nausea and vomiting with Francis, so I knew that bad nausea did not necessarily equate to a healthy pregnancy.

And now I just feel at a loss. Is there something wrong with me? Did I do something to cause this? Do I have low progesterone, or a blood clotting disorder, or is it because I'm approaching advanced maternal age (I turn 35 on November 3) and my egg quality is declining?

Or is there another reason altogether? Does God think I'm a such a terrible mother that I don't deserve to be blessed with another living child? Intellectually I know that's not true, but in my darkest moments I still wonder. I wake up in the middle of the night and start crying when I remember that I'm not pregnant anymore.

I spoke to my OB about having genetic testing done on Jude, but it would cost us $2500 out-of-pocket and that is just not an expense we can bear right now. In addition, my OB pointed out that if the tests did show something wrong genetically, it's not really something we could act upon, and he prefers to perform tests that yield an actionable outcome. 

He is going to refer me to a reproductive endocrinologist, though, for more extensive testing on me. Maybe I do have some sort of blood clotting disorder or genetic mutation that has caused my four losses, and I've just been amazingly fortunate to bring five healthy children to term. Maybe there's something we can do next time, if there is a next time. Assuming we ever get pregnant again, I know I am definitely going to get my progesterone tested first thing, just in case. But my OB doesn't think progesterone deficiency was a factor in my loss, since the placenta takes over progesterone production at 10 weeks and it's unlikely to have a late miscarriage caused by progesterone issues (usually that kind of deficiency will cause an early miscarriage). Plus my progesterone has been tested with other successful pregnancies, and was always at an optimal number. Still, I don't think he would object if I asked to be tested, and it may prove to be one more piece of the puzzle.

I feel guilty for taking this loss so hard when I do have five beautiful, healthy children. But they are grieving as well. My oldest daughter is especially devastated; she has longed for another  baby sibling now that Peter is a toddler and not a baby. She especially wants a little sister, but she understands that the baby's gender is beyond our control. Telling her that Jude had died was one of the hardest things we've ever done.

And as a consequence I'm terrified of getting pregnant again. Obviously it's too soon - both logistically and in terms of the grieving process - to make any decisions in that regard, but I know that if we do choose to get pregnant again, my first trimester is going to be a time of constant fear and trepidation, not joy. And even having successful ultrasounds that show a a living baby won't help take away the fear. 

I think that miscarriage definitely robs you of your pregnancy innocence, but multiple consecutive miscarriages, especially after what seemed like positive signs, completely robs you of your joy. A positive pregnancy test seems like a harbinger of doom instead of a gift of new life.

And yet I know I shouldn't feel that way either. God has given, and God has taken away. My babies are with God now, and they will never know pain, will never know sin, will never know heartbreak or loss. They are perhaps the most fortunate of all my children in that regard. But it hurts that I will not know them this side of heaven. 

It feels so strange to not be pregnant anymore. I can't quite seem to wrap my mind around it. One day I was pregnant, the next I was not - but there is no baby in my arms to help me acclimate to the change. Part of me wants to give away all of my maternity clothes, baby clothes, and baby gear, just to get the constant reminders out of the house. Part of me feels that's foolish because… What if? I don't know. Something to think about later, I guess.

I've been writing for about an hour now and it's about time I shut things down and try to get more sleep. If you've made it this far, thanks for "listening."

Francis' Burial

Here are some pictures from Francis' burial on Saturday, June 6, at Holy Cross Cemetery.

Laying Francis to rest.
The coffin and blanket on top were provided by the funeral home.
I was given the blanket to keep.

Francis' name will be carved on this stone.

Flower arrangement courtesy of my wonderful friends from my parish's Catholic Daughters group.

Francis was buried in a section of the cemetery specifically for babies under 20 weeks gestation.
It's called the Rachel Section and has this statue next to the headstones.
(Didn't notice 'til later that one of the cemetery employees was behind the tree.)

In Memoriam

Sad news to share. On June 1, at my 12-week OB appointment, we discovered that our little Sprout had passed away. S/he was only measuring 10 weeks and had no heartbeat. I had two ultrasounds to confirm - one on a portable u/s machine, performed by my midwife, and one on a higher-quality machine, performed by a trained u/s technician. This picture is from the latter ultrasound.

I was shocked, and devastated, especially since four weeks previously I had seen Spout's lovely heartbeat flickering on the ultrasound screen. 

My OB recommended a D&C, since natural miscarriages can be harder and more prone to complications the further along you are. 

I agreed with his recommendation, and had the D&C yesterday. Thankfully everything went smoothly. 

We named the baby Francis. S/he will be buried at our local Catholic cemetery on Saturday. 

In Remembrance

You never walked upon the earth,

But I remember you.

We couldn't celebrate your birth,

But I remember you.

We've never seen your little face,

But I remember you.

You're buried in a distant place,

But I remember you.

It's been eight years since you passed on,

But I remember you.

So many friends don't know you're gone,

But I remember you.

And if you'd lived, who would you be?

It must remain unknown.

But God has promised that we'll see

Our saint in heaven grown. 

I hold on to that hope each day

And pray that you will know

That even though I'm far away

Your mommy loves you so.

In loving memory of Noel Wahlund, lost to miscarriage 12/19/2006. 

International Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day

I received an e-mail asking if I would help publicize this campaign on International Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day, and I'm happy to do so. The following is cut and pasted from the email, as my blogging time is limited at the moment. :)

Tuesday, October 15, 2013 officially marks International Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day, a day of remembrance for pregnancy loss and infant death which includes miscarriage, stillbirth, SIDS, or the death of a newborn.  The National Institute of Health estimates 26,000 stillbirths out of the 4 million births per year in the United States, meaning one in every 160 births results in a stillborn.  These statistics can change dramatically with your help!

After learning that Norway had effectively reduced its stillbirth rates by one-third by conducting a public health campaign on kick counting, five Des Moines-area moms who each lost babies to late-term stillbirth or infant death founded a non-profit organization called Healthy Birth Day with the goal of preventing stillbirths and infant deaths through research, education and advocacy.  In 2009, the non-profit launched a statewide public health campaign in Iowa called Count the Kicks to prevent late-term birth complications and stillbirths, urging parents to contact their health care providers immediately if they notice significant changes in their babies’ movements. Scientific studies indicate kick counting (a daily record of a baby’s movements, kicks, rolls, punches, and jabs) during the third trimester is an easy, free and reliable way to monitor a baby’s well-being in addition to regular prenatal visits.  This year, the campaign is going nationwide with the help of Count the Kicks Ambassadors, seven women (Shawn Soumilas for Arizona, Kari Davis for Ohio, Meghan Petty for Tennessee, Karina Bennett for New York & California, Stacey Gripshover for Kentucky, Sapphire Garcia-Glancy for Kansas, and Sarah Firianni of Florida) from across the country who will be spreading the word about the importance of tracking fetal movement during the third trimester of pregnancy. These women will be the feet on the street, connecting with healthcare providers and expecting parents in their communities to spread Count the Kicks' life-saving message, with the ultimate goal of reducing the national stillbirth rate. 

Stillbirth and infant death may be a sensitive subject, but spreading awareness WILL help prevent the loss of more lives.  To join the movement, start by visiting and liking the Count the Kicks Facebook page: www.facebook.com/countthekicks

Here is an important message from the Count the Kicks Ambassadors, Mom to Mom: http://youtu.be/h5Nj9FRTZcQ

About Healthy Birth Day: 

Healthy Birth Day is a nonprofit organization dedicated to preventing stillbirths and infant deaths through education, advocacy and parent support.  Founded in 2003 by five Iowa mothers (Kate Safris, Kerry Biondi-Morlan, Sen. Janet Petersen, Tiffan Yamen, Jan Caruthers) who met after each lost a daughter to stillbirth or infant death,  Healthy Birth Day has helped with getting Iowa’s Stillbirth Registry law enacted (which has brought more than $2 million into Iowa for stillbirth prevention research), created a local parent-to-parent network to reach out to grieving families immediately following their loss of their babies, and launched the “Count the Kicks” public health campaign to help prevent stillbirths.

Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day

Our ultrasound of Noel, at which we discovered s/he had died

Miscarriage Prayer

My Lord, the baby is dead! Why, my Lord—dare I ask why? It will not hear the whisper of the wind or see the beauty of its parents’ face—it will not see the beauty of Your creation or the flame of a sunrise. Why, my Lord?

“Why, My child--do you ask ‘why’? Well, I will tell you why. You see, the child lives. Instead of the wind he hears the sound of angels singing before My throne. Instead of the beauty that passes he sees everlasting Beauty—he sees My face. He was created and lived a short time so the image of his parents imprinted on his face may stand before Me as their personal intercessor. He knows secrets of heaven unknown to men on earth. He laughs with a special joy that only the innocent possess. My ways are not the ways of man. I create for My Kingdom and each creature fills a place in that Kingdom that could not be filled by another. He was created for My joy and his parents’ merits. He has never seen pain or sin. He has never felt hunger or pain. I breathed a soul into a seed, made it grow and called it forth.”

I am humbled before you, my Lord, for questioning Your wisdom, goodness, and love. I speak as a fool—forgive me. I acknowledge Your sovereign rights over life and death. I thank You for the life that began for so short a time to enjoy so long an Eternity. -- Mother M. Angelica

My positive pregnancy test with Chris

Missing my babies Noel (12/2006) and Chris (03/2009).

Also, please pray for a friend of mine who had a miscarriage today.

Why I Cried on My Way to Work This Morning

This morning, during my commute, I listened to the latest episode of one of my favorite podcasts, Among Women. The featured guest was musician Sarah Hart, and one of the songs played on the podcast moved me to tears. It's called "Child of My Heart," and she wrote it for a friend who had suffered a second-trimester miscarriage. You can listen to the entire song on the podcast.

I can't find the lyrics online at the moment, but let me assure you - this song will deeply resonate with any woman who has lost a child to miscarriage. 

I'm definitely adding Sarah Hart's music to my iTunes library. She has a rare and wonderful talent, both as a musician and as a songwriter. I loved every single song featured on the podcast.

Abortion vs. Miscarriage - A Response to "crowepps"

A commenter named "crowepps" left a comment on my Open Letter to Congresswoman Speier, and as both her comment and my response are lengthy, I figured it was better served by its own post than a long comment.

"crowepps" begins:

The difference between 'abortion' and 'miscarriage' is that the first is a medical term and the second is a layman's term.

Technically, this is true. However, "miscarriage" is more often used in medical parlance to refer to a spontaneous abortion, as can be evidenced by the quote in my original post from the National Center for Biotechnology Information: "A miscarriage may also be called a 'spontaneous abortion.' This refers to naturally occurring events, not medical abortions or surgical abortions."

Here is the medical definition as doctors use the term from emedicinehealth.com "Abortion: In medicine, an abortion is the premature exit of the products of conception (the fetus, fetal membranes, and placenta) from the uterus. It is the loss of a pregnancy and does not refer to why that pregnancy was lost. A spontaneous abortion is the same as a miscarriage. The miscarriage of 3 or more consecutive pregnancies is termed habitual abortion."

emedicinehealth.com also has a definition for miscarriage: "A miscarriage (also termed spontaneous abortion) is any pregnancy that spontaneously ends before the fetus can survive."

So it seems, based on the above, that "miscarriage" and "spontaneous abortion" can be used interchangeably.

I too had the experience of having my fetus stop developing without a spontaneous abortion starting; the correct medical term for this condition is EITHER "missed pregnancy" OR "missed abortion".

I'm very sorry for the loss of your child.

My midwife referred to my experience as a "missed miscarriage," as did the OB who performed my D&C. Regardless as to what it was called on the official paperwork, that was not the terminology my care providers used.

I'm of the opinion that the medical terminology does need an update given the current negative connotations of "abortion." The last thing a mother who is losing a very much loved and wanted baby needs to hear is that she's having an "abortion," because that lumps her in with all the women who are voluntarily and deliberately throwing away the precious gift of a healthy baby.

"D&C abortion" is the name of the medical procedure which removes the remains of the placenta and dead fetus to prevent infection and allow another attempt at pregnancy. It is done with the exact same equipment and in the exact same manner as a 'birth control' abortion because there are not two separate, different names for the procedure depending on whether the fetus is dead or alive, or depending on the motives of the women having the procedure.

Yes, that is exactly what I said in my open letter to Congresswomen Speier. Did you read the entire post?

As I said in my original post, D&Cs and D&Es are morally neutral as procedures. They have very legitimate uses, such as treating missed abortions (which I am assuming that both you, me, and Rep. Speier suffered). You will not, to my knowledge, find a single pro-lifer claiming otherwise.

Moreover, I had my D&C in a hospital, not an abortion facility. If they were the exact same procedure, why didn't the hospital just send me down the street to the "women's clinic" that did the exact same procedure on women with living, healthy babies? Why doesn't the hospital perform the procedure on women with living, healthy babies? Obviously, there is some difference, otherwise there would be no need for abortion facilities.

Medicine uses only one term for this procedure in all of the circumstances in which it may be used, and so laws that forbid doctors to do "abortions" are going to ban precisely the procedure I had and the women here had and Rep. Speier had and leave all of those women at risk of infection and infertility. Those laws will also ban the 60,000 abortions every year which remove ectopic pregnancies and condemn those women to die.

You have been grotesquely misinformed.

If what you say is true, then prior to 1973 and the Roe v. Wade decision, having a D&C for a missed abortion or treatment for an ectopic pregnancy would have been illegal. However, this was not the case when elective abortion was illegal. In fact, every anti-abortion law in the United States prior to Roe v. Wade had a "life of the mother" exemption.

Let's use ectopic pregnancy as an example.

The Catholic Church acknowledges that ectopic pregnancies must be treated. Such treatment (i.e., removal of the section of the fallopian tube containing the baby) falls under the principle of double effect and is morally legitimate. Any treatment for a mother's life-threatening condition is legitimate as long as it does not directly target the baby (i.e., directly kill the baby); rather, the baby's death must be an unwanted and unintended (even if foreseen) side effect of the treatment.

Given that it was not illegal to treat ectopic pregnancies prior to Roe v. Wade, I don't see how you can make the argument that this would become illegal should Roe ever be overturned. If it's that much of a concern for you, then write your elected officials and ask them to make sure that any anti-abortion laws contain language specific to elective, induced abortion and specifically exclude spontaneous or missed abortion. Problem solved.


When Rep. Speier tries to imply that I deliberately and consciously murdered my child, it is offensive. I did not have an elective, induced abortion. I did not walk into an abortion facility and pay a medical practitioner to kill my child. Neither did she, by all accounts, and she has no right whatsoever to lump together abortion and miscarriage because she is essentially equating murder with natural death. I wouldn't walk up to someone whose grandmother passed away in her sleep and accuse him of murder any more than I would tell a person who smothered his elderly grandmother with a pillow that it was a good thing his grandma passed away naturally, and why don't we go ahead and ask the government to subsidize him?

crowepps, let me introduce you to someone.

This is my second child, Noel. This is the only picture I have of him or her, as this was the ultrasound that diagnosed my missed abortion:

When I look at this picture, I don't see "products of conception" or "medical waste" or a "missed abortion." I see my beloved child, who died after only six short weeks of life (approximately). [I might add that he or she was conceived at a time when my husband and I were trying to avoid pregnancy, as we were going through a period of unemployment and financial strain. However, his or her death devastated us. Although he or she was unplanned, he or she was very much loved, was very much wanted, and is very much missed. He or she also had a right to life from the moment he or she was conceived.]

He or she is buried at Holy Cross Cemetery in Fargo, North Dakota. We had a graveside service and a memorial Mass said for him or her.

My child was a person, a human being, and the length of his or her natural lifespan does not change that, as much as Planned Parenthood would like to pretend otherwise.