In all honesty I don’t really know where to begin this post. Everything I start with seems cheesy and stupid or trite and overwrought. It seems a bit excessive to begin by saying that two weeks ago my life changed forever but in a way it did. Two weeks ago I had a miscarriage. Two weeks ago our baby died, left and vacated my body leaving a pit in my stomach that won’t go away. I am sad. I am angry. I am on riding an emotional roller coaster. Life goes on.
This is my first miscarriage. It is not my first experience with loss- even infant loss. I have been through losses before with patients and very close friends. I have grieved with them and thought thank goodness that isn’t me. This time it was me. Some will say that it’s not really a loss or they will have a hard time understanding why I would be so upset since I miscarried fairly early on. They’ll say you weren’t even really pregnant. But I feel this loss. Even though I only knew about this baby for a few short weeks, for a few short weeks I planned and I dreamed and I loved.
I guess I am grieving the could-have-beens and the should-have-beens. I know I have 2 healthy beautiful babies but I should be growing a third baby inside of me right now, not feeling an empty pit. I tell myself that it is for the best. If the child had been healthy and well then it would have survived. That God has a plan for us and our family and this particular child didn’t fit into the plan right now. But mixed in the sadness and resignation that there was nothing I could have done I am really, really angry. I am angry with my body for what feels like it failed me. It also doesn’t help that since the miscarriage my skin has been in full on revolt and I am covered head to toe in hives and eczema- stress much? I am angry with people who say “you’ll have more” or “at least you have 2 healthy children.” I don’t want more. I want this baby to be alive. I am angry that my child didn’t survive. I am angry that people feel like it is less of a loss or that I shouldn’t be upset because I was “barely” pregnant.
So I am taking my anger out on the walls and floor of my bedroom. I am ripping out trim boards and carpet and wielding a crowbar and hammer with restrained abandon. I am exercising my right to some retail therapy and purchasing new hardwood floors and a new bed. I am hoping that in the end I will have a calm oasis where I can retreat and escape my sadness and my anger for awhile.
I’m not a total basket case. However, I am incredibly grateful that I was on vacation during this time. I don’t think I could have managed to deliver other people’s babies while intensely grieving my own. I was really worried about going back to work and not being able to feel that rush of good when you help a new mom bring her baby into the world. But I have gone back to work now and been through two deliveries and I survived. I didn’t feel sad or anger in the presence of those births. I was able, without effort, to celebrate with those mommas and babies. So I feel good about that.
I think that James especially has realized on some level that his momma needs some extra loving these days because he’s been such a love bug recently. I have found joy in his laughter, which is completely infectious. If you can watch his giggles video without cracking a smile you are stronger than me. I have watched that video a lot recently and it still makes me laugh. And Xander gives the best snuggles, especially first thing in the morning. I’m glad I have my boys, all three of them, they give me such strength and love.
In memory of my Poppy, 7/29/2011