I know that I haven't had many encouraging words to say recently or interesting blog posts...
I just want to say that it isn't because I'm not happy. It's not because I'm horribly disinterested in maintaining 'normal' life like I've done for the past year, nearly. I'm still living with great hope regarding the future. But it feels as though a piece is missing, even though I never "knew the difference". It feels like a little hope was stolen. It hurts to have to live "normally" when I know that this year would have been so different and it hurts to think that God would introduce something so special just to take it away. That's what I've been struggling with most.
I've been actively trying to 'feel and deal' instead of pushing everything down or becoming numb like I did before.
I've wanted to write something lovely and heartfelt and meaningful for weeks now...
but nothing comes out right when it comes to this.
There are so many thoughts and feelings in my head regarding the past year. Those feelings piled on top of past hurts, plans, and current worries make it really difficult to differentiate things. ...And since I can't seem to explain how I'm feeling and I typically end up talking in circles, I thought I'd share some excerpts from articles and stories from blogs I've been reading.
I might seem ridiculous reading this from the perspective of someone else or from some random 'how-to' type article, but I think these excerpts sum up many of the emotions I've had over the last several months. Amy went through a similar situation... and I think her thoughts and explanation closely resembles mine.
Miscarriage is different than losing any other person in my life. As soon as I see those "two lines," I am imagining this new child: will it be a boy or girl? Will they have my dark hair and eyes or my husband's light hair and eyes? What will they like to do? Sports, music, writing, math? Will they like to snuggle or will they prefer to roughhouse and play around?
When I see those "two lines," I am automatically thinking nine months ahead and preparing my mind to add this child to our family. I am thinking of getting the carseat ready, the crib ready, the clothes ready… So many thoughts and hopes and questions and plans. Despite not being prepared timing wise, I was so excited to learn more about this little one we made.
When the miscarriage happens, I do not have a child to hold and say goodbye to, I do not have a funeral I can sense some closure from, and I don't have all the support from everyone around me to get me through the difficult time.
I recently talked with another friend about this experience, and we talked about how we have this cultural thing where we don't tell anyone we're pregnant (except very close family and friends) until we're 12 weeks along when the "risk" is gone. . .I wonder why we do that? If a miscarriage happens, don't we want the support? Isn't that the time when we go through such awful morning sickness and worry that we would appreciate the help? These really are just musings because I was the same way. . .don't tell anyone that isn't super close until 12 weeks; looking back, maybe if I had done things differently, it would have been easier.
Those who have been through this particular trial were those I was so grateful to have around me. After my first miscarriage, I had a friend (who had been through a miscarriage herself not long before) bring me flowers and dinner when she found out. It was so nice to feel someone knew what an empty space we felt and that flowers really were appropriate--you send flowers to a funeral, don't you? I feel a miscarriage is the same thing: even if we never met the person, we grieve for them and feel a great sense of loss.
Someone brought me flowers when they found out, which I thought was so incredibly sweet and really thoughtful. It meant a lot. It might sound odd, but I do think that it was good and necessary for me to have this finally feel like a loss, like a death that was 'worthy' of support ...not just a bad dream or bad day to just 'get over'. For so long I convinced myself that it was silly, in hopes of protecting my heart.
I really needed for this hurt to be validated, and still do. After all, I value life from conception, why wouldn't this be considered a loss? I never want to feel like the loss of a baby (no matter how small) is silly or not worth being sad or disappointed about.
Anyway, I found this article about unplanned pregnancy and miscarriage also... It echoes some of the feelings I have had as well. (Despite being unplanned, I did want this baby ...just didn't know what to do with the timing and finances)
"Many women bond with their baby early on in the pregnancy, and will feel incredibly sad that they will never know this child.
She may feel the miscarriage is somehow her "fault" because the pregnancy was unplanned or unwanted.Women who were not planning a pregnancy may wonder how and why they became pregnant in the first place.
Women who were not anticipating having a baby at this time in their life may simply feel guilty... as though somehow everyone knows that they lost a baby they never wanted in the first place (this was one of the main reasons I didn't tell for so long) and that all other mothers or women who want to be mothers are censuring them... "
These excerpts were from an article regarding both "unplanned" and "unwanted" pregnancies... which, despite being unplanned (in our case), I still wanted very much.
It's amazing how much love you can feel when that test says positive, even when it's a surprise. It's incredible how many plans and hopes and wishes you have for someone you've never even met. It's been specifically difficult to be without any tangible reminders, keepsakes or photos.
...until now, which leads me to my next post.