I haven't blogged about my miscarriage in awhile, and I didn't plan on it either. I thought that I am really doing fine, little blips on the radar, here and there, but nothing too dramatic. And besides, does anyone really want to hear about my pain anymore? Everyone has their own pain in their lives but they are not blogging about it. But what changed my mind recently is reflecting on the reason why I decided start blogging about losing the baby in the first place. To break the silence. To share mystory and hopefully help some other woman going through this. The grief just doesn't go away after a month or a year, it may not be as intense, but like so many other things in my line of work-natural birth, breastfeeding-hearing about experiences normalizes these things. Miscarriage is not exempt from this line of thinking. It needs to be normalized. I am normal. What I am feeling is normal. I vowed to myelf to be honest and to not hold anything back in my blog posts about my miscarriage. And so here I am, typing an update, if you will. Becasue this is still part of my journey. Emotionally, I have been good. Busy of course and distracted by the holidays and by other issues and stressors that inevitably come up while raising a large family. I can't remember the last time that I cried when I thought about our angel baby. I've seen pregnant women that I knew were as far along as I would've been by now, and I've been ok. Then Christmas came. On the holiday itself I was fine. I think becasue the only difference in our lives this Christmas would've been my ever-expanding belly, it didn't affect me too much. It's not like the baby would've been here yet. During Christmas break I decided to clean out my bedroom closet as it's contents were beginning to grow beyond it's door. I found at the back some winter maternity clothes that I had brought out of storage in mid-September. I was in the attic getting out my kids' winter clothes and saw the bin and figured that I may as well get it out now and save myself from having to find them again later. So as I was packing these clothes to go back into storage again, I saw the shirt that I probably would've worn for Christmas. A red one with the fabric across the top gathered into the center with a jeweled square. Looking at it got my mind thinking more...how I didn't get to wear that shirt this year, and about how far along I would've been, how much I would've been showing, and then I realized that I would've had the ultrasound that could've told us the baby's sex right before Christmas. Now I realize that some of you out there may be thinking that I could've had an ultrasound before that to tell the sex. I know that. To clarify, I only get one ultrasound while pregnant--unless there is a medical reason to get more. I get the level 2 anatomy scan at 18-20 wks. I personally don't see a benefit of getting more, unless there is a medical need. Plus I am not convinced that ultrasounds are completely safe for the baby, so any extra ones that aren't deemed necessary, I don't get. So I would know what I was having. Boy or girl. Blue or pink. I would be more than halfway through. Coasting through to the third trimester. I felt a lump in my throat rise and erupt into tears pouring down my cheeks. I hugged the Christmas shirt close, as if that would bring me closer to the little soul that I would not get the chance to meet, at least not here on earth. I did feel good to cry, I needed the release. The next day dawned a little brighter. I am a mom and we just don't get days off, the beat goes on in our house. I am still sad, or melancholy sometimes. I still wonder why. I think thtat with any loss, we wonder why and most of the time, we won't get an answer. I've read tons of women's stories and came across many quote that inspire and sum up exactly the way I feel. I would like to share some of those miscarriage quotes that are my favorites. If you have suffered a loss, maybe they will help you too.
How very quietly you tiptoed into our world, silently, only a moment you stayed. But what an imprint your footprints have made upon our hearts. Unknown
Do not judge the bereaved mother She comes in many forms. She is breathing but she is dying. She may look young but inside she has become ancient. She smiles but her heart sobs. She walks, talks, cooks, cleans, works. She IS but IS NOT all at once. She is here but a part of her is elsewhere for eternity.
An angel, in the Book of Life, wrote down my baby's birth. Then whispered as he closed the book, "Too beautiful for Earth."
We asked God for a baby. Instead He gave us an angel.
Some say you are too painful to remember. I say you are too precious to forget.
If love could've saved you, you would've lived forever.
We are grieving. We are not contagious. We are not sad all of the time. We laugh. We smile. We cry. We weep for being happy. We live. We walk. We feel. We come from every background. We are sad, we lost a baby. We are.... Jennifer Davis
I held you every second of your life. Stephanie Paige Cole
No one can know how much I loved you, Because you are the only one who knows what My heart sounds like from the inside.
I'd like to add a little something more... We are mothers who will not get to see our babies grow up. We need to express our grief. We need to be held. We need to cry. We need someone to validate our feelings. We need to hear someone else call our angel baby a 'baby.' There is no timeline for our grief, nor should there be. We don't need to hear empty words, they don't take the pain away. Just let us talk, let us grieve. All you need to do is be a listening ear, a shoulder to let us cry on, And to say you are sorry for what we are going through. Nothing more. Except maybe bring food, always bring some food ;) Drawing by B. Fleetwood-Walker, "Thoughtful Mood"