From My Wife

***The following post is a guest post from my wife, Laura, about our recent loss.***

Originally when Trent and I found out we had been blessed with conceiving a child, I was immediately overwhelmed at God’s blessing. I told Trent within the first hour of finding out, “I just can’t help but think it’s not fair that my little baby is safe with me, but so many other little babies are not safe at all in their mothers’ wombs. The babies are just swimming around in there, but they have no idea if their moms will decide to keep them.” During mass the day we found out, I pondered at how caring for another makes someone holier. I suddenly wanted to go to daily mass more frequently to get my baby communion, and prepare myself spiritually for the innocence and purity of this new human being. I silently promised my little one that if he does have to go home, I wouldn’t let his death be in vain. I’d try to be as holy as possible because I know his dad and I are the only people he’s ever known, and if he continued on to pray for us, I didn’t want those prayers to be unnoticed, like a mean mom or dad who rejects their preschool child’s best try at art.

I was pregnant during the 41st anniversary of Roe vs. Wade, the monumental court decision that made abortion legal on a federal level in America, and my heart was heavy the entire day. I continued to dwell on how unnatural it would have to be for a woman to want her pregnancy to end, and how sad it is she would have to suppress the love she feels for her unborn child with fear that had overcome her. I entertained thoughts of what it would be like to walk into a clinic and come out “not pregnant.” It was getting to be too much, so I, like many, stopped thinking about it.

A week later, I was volunteering as a nurse at a free medical clinic in El Cajon, and used the restroom only to find out I had started to lightly bleed. The doctor understood and immediately dismissed me to go to my primary care provider.  When I arrived, my doctor suggested an ultrasound and I be started on progesterone, the hormone necessary to sustain pregnancy. Trent and I have practiced natural family planning, so I knew my body had expressed signs of low progesterone in past cycles. My sister also struggles with polycystic ovarian syndrome, which requires her to receive progesterone during all of her pregnancies. I eagerly went to collect my urine sample, so I could move on with the ultrasound to hopefully see my little baby I called my poppy seed. I looked down only to see a pool of blood, and just like that I knew it was over. My miscarriage was beginning. My breath escaped me instantaneously, and I could do nothing but sob. I walked into the ultrasound room to see my husband and the nurse preparing for an ultrasound that surely would show nothing. The nurse explained it’d probably be best to wait before trying to see what happens. The next few moments were a blur of shattered hopes and pain that only someone who has experienced loss can understand. I was told I could expect to bleed for about two weeks, and to come back on Tuesday. The doctors were empathetic and professional, and I am forever grateful.

Trent and I tried to pass time by going to see the movie Saving Mr. Banks and walking around. I found it difficult to walk, so I sat frequently. I had an epiphany about what this all means to me in relation to the pro-life movement. Trent and I met doing pro-life work, and we’ve given our entire lives over to defending the unborn together. Often times Trent and I both hear from post-abortive women, “I’ve had an abortion, so do you think I’m a murderer?” The answer we give is always “no” and includes us trying to reassure them that we’re very sorry about what happened to them and the child they’ve lost. If they have any logical reasons to defend legal abortion, we address those as we would with any man/woman who hasn’t had an abortion. But as I miscarried, I also recalled the times when pro-choice advocates have defended their positions with rhetoric such as “it’s not a baby,” “it’s not alive yet,” or “it’s not even a person.” I immediately couldn’t help but become really angry at these arguments that belittle what I was feeling about my unborn child. If the pro-choice view is correct, women who miscarry are mourning nothing but the possibility of becoming pregnant, not an actual child she just lost. This is a lie, and it is insulting. Trent approached me, knowing something was wrong. “I think we need to start making this personal.” I told him. He was confused, but I continued, “I mean I think in the pro-life movement, we need to start using personal examples to be the voice of our children. We need to start saying statements such as ‘So you’re telling me when I miscarried, I have no right to think I actually had a baby I lost?’” A lot of people are advocates for legal abortion because they have intellectual arguments, but more people are defenders of legal abortion because they have emotional arguments. It’s time we start being emotional right back, and showing them what the death of a child looks like. It looks like a sad mom and dad who were excited to welcome a child into the world and would died to see him live. From now on, when someone tells me, “It’s not a human yet” I will counter with the question, “So you’re saying when I miscarried, I had nothing to be sad over because I didn’t lose my human child my husband and I tried for months to create?” We need to start making people uncomfortable with their views, because chances are, they’ve doubted what they think is true at some point and time. When they had doubts, there was probably a pro-choice person to reassure them that “a woman has a right to choose” or that “it isn’t a baby, just a clump of cells.” We need to start being there as the people who have or know someone who have lost a human being, and will not back down that that human being was special, and it’s sad they are dead. Women who have had abortions were lied to, and to cover up that lie, she’ll have to do some more serious lying to herself and create a vicious cycle. This will continue until she finally faces that it’s okay to miss her baby she never got to hold. She’s not a monster, she’s a mother, but she has to start spreading truth from her loss, and not helping other women make the same mistake she did. The pro-choice view is belittling to mothers and fathers who have experienced loss, and we need to start making them uncomfortable by calling pro-choice advocates out on it. My baby’s death will not be in vain.

When Trent and I found out we were expecting, I bought journals for us to write to our baby in hopes we could give him his journal when he was older. I read Trent’s first entry. He wrote to our child:

                Dear Baby,

When I first found out you existed, I hugged your mom tighter than I had in a really long time. I was so happy to know that you had come into our family, and to know that our future would never be the same. Even if God decided that you were to return home to Him before birth, you will still always be a part of our family.

I have so many questions about the future, but for now I will be like Mary and “ponder these things in my heart.” I love you so much little baby, and I can’t wait to meet you soon.


And that is why I’m mad people belittle the unborn and their parents’ feelings by being pro-choice.

13 thoughts on “From My Wife

  1. Anita

    I’m so sorry for your loss. Know that you will be in my prayers. Thank you for giving us such a beautiful perspective of the dignity of the human child. You have also given us ammunition to take out to the front lines at the abortion clinic. It is true, when we have a miscarriage we have not lost a piece of tissue. We’ve lost a child, a member of our family, one who we have loved and desired, waited for and cherished. my husband and I have varied three of our children.

    1. Anita

      I’m so sorry for your loss. Know that you will be in my prayers. Thank you for giving us such a beautiful perspective of the dignity of the human child. You have also given us ammunition to take out to the front lines at the abortion clinic. It is true, when we have a miscarriage we have not lost a piece of tissue. We’ve lost a child, a member of our family, one who we have loved and desired, waited for and cherished. my husband and I have buried three of our children.

  2. nowthatsapartyAndi

    I am so sorry for your loss. We lost our first baby, Joey, at around four weeks. It was the first time in my life I had really grieved. If it wasn’t for your openness to life, there would not be a new little saint in Heaven who gets to spend eternity with God.

  3. April

    I don’t know you Laura, but I knew Trent in his younger days. I applaud you for your courage and fortitude to write this blog entry. I am a 52-year-old mother of 8, 5 on earth and 3 in heaven. Much of what you wrote I can personally relate to, including receiving daily Eucharist from the moment I knew I had a baby in me, and the pain of the actual days of the loss (my comfort was cinnamon toast delivered by a loving daughter and husband every time it happened). Take real comfort in knowing that throughout all of your life, Jesus is right next to you, holding you and loving you through your pain and real suffering. Your trials are designed perfectly for your sanctification and now you have a little one to greet you into eternity someday. The rest is fuel for the work you and Trent have been called to do, and do so well. Prayers for strength and grace….

  4. Ellen deAustin

    Tears and prayers for both of you…I am so sorry for your loss. Thank you for sharing your profound insights.

  5. Michael Longoria

    Wow, this is powerful. When I was 12, me and my two brothers began to pray for my parents to have another baby. I remember praying every night asking God to give our family a baby. And a few months later, my mom and dad announced that we were going to have a baby! We were so excited and thanked God so much. We began preparing the house for the new baby girl and me and my brothers started asking my dad to tell us how to change diapers. But a couple months into her pregnancy, my mom had a miscarriage. It was the first time I ever saw my dad cry. We as a whole family sobbed together. It was such a painful experience. But it was painful because we knew we had lost a baby girl, who we named Grace. We knew Grace wasn’t just a blob of cells but a baby who we would see soon.
    The pro-choice view is such an insult just like you said. Whenever they say it’s not a baby, it’s like they are opening up a wound that hasn’t healed completely. Please know that I will be praying for you both! Thank you for sharing this and know that you aren’t alone!

  6. Gilbert Robles, Jr.

    Dear Mr. and Mrs. Horn,

    God really does work in mysterious ways. I truly admire your ability to turn this unfortunate tragedy into something positive. This has TRULY inspired me. God Bless you and your family. Your baby’s death was not in vain as you so eloquently wrote. You are forever in my prayers. Greetings from Guam, USA!

  7. Ivy

    Geeez, I don’t even know what to say, except, God continues to love you and your child is still alive in Christ. My heart goes out to you both. I recently bought Trent’s DVD: Making the Case for Life, and it really opened my eyes to the lies abortion clinics throw out at women. I want to thank you both for your good work in defending the unborn. My prayers, my love, & my heart, goes out to both of you & your baby in heaven.

  8. Pam H.

    Thank you so much for sharing your testimony. I am so sorry for your loss. I think we all know someone who has suffered lost due to a miscarriage. My own mother confessed to me several years ago that I would have another sibling except that she had miscarried. She, too, grieved along with my father. As a prolife advocate, I get insulted when I hear babies descrubed as nothing more than a clump of cells. I applaud both you and Trent for your efforts in the Pro-Lufe Movement and your courage on making the fight personal. You are all in my prayers.

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