Thursday, February 25, 2010

Mommy and Me

Coraline at 3 1/2 months of age.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Confessions: Loss of a Pregnancy

There is something so surreal about the loss of a pregnancy. People, well-meaning people that have not been through it cannot comprehend though they try. They may say things like, “well it’s good that you didn’t have time to get too attached” or “don’t worry you can try again.” As, if you never had the chance to become attached to the little miracle inside you. And, of course you can “try again” but it doesn’t make up for the fact that there was a little life in you that you’ll never get to know. Never meet. And, you ache at the thought that you’ll never meet them. It hurts. There’s no way around it.

I remember thinking, how surreal it was to be sitting on the doctor’s cold table as the doctor’s words “possible miscarriage” echoed in my head. I was numb. But, I kept foolishly clinging to hope. I don’t know why. If nothing progressed in the following weeks then we’d know it was real.

I remember the hollowness, emptiness that followed as the next visit only confirmed my fears.

I remember my body refusing to give up the pregnancy as if my brain just couldn’t convince my body that the baby was gone…let go. So, they had to perform a D&C in the doctor’s office.

I remember thinking, how surreal it was to watch my own tears falling in slow motion, beautiful little drops splashing onto the cold, sterile, linoleum floor of the doctor’s office after it was all done. The nurses cleaning the table. My head in my hands. Empty, hollow, broken. So many words and none of them truly describe the feelings you have after it happens.

Even if it’s only for a day, you become attached to this person, this miracle inside you. Others think that because you couldn’t see it, then the pain will subside more easily because it was never really there, right?!

The only way I can describe it is like ‘faith’ as ludicrous as that sounds. Being pregnant is like faith itself, in its full embodiment. You can’t see the spiritual deity that you have faith in but you know it’s there. You have faith, which allows you to feel it move through, in and around you. It is the same from the very moment you learn you are pregnant. You cannot see the blessing inside you but you know it’s there. You feel it through other ways, especially during the early months. And, the joy of knowing it and the hope that one day you will meet it, sustains you through the aches, and pains, and trial of pregnancy and labor.

And, to have that hope ripped away leaves a void like nothing you can describe. To lose your faith - that emptiness, confusion, anger, pain, and immense grief- is the only thing I can find akin to such a moment. For those many women who have experienced this, my heart goes out to you. For those women who never have, I pray you never do.

This originally was written as a means to help with healing after the miscarriage of what would have been our first child. It was never meant to be made public but friends encouraged me to post it in the hope that many other women who have experienced a miscarriage or stillbirth might find solace or comfort in reading it and knowing that there are several of us out there that understand and empathize.