Obviously I haven’t really been keeping up with my blog. I had hoped that it would be a great outlet for me during my loss-of-baby-mourning stages. But how many creative ways are there to say “I’m still sad” or “I’m still crying”? Not too many, I’m sure. And this blog, which had once been a little bright spot in my day, in my week, quickly turned dim, as all I could do when I sat to write was either weep silently or scream my head off.
Today as I glanced at the calendar towards the week ahead, I saw “28″ written on tomorrow’s date. 28 weeks. If I hadn’t lost the baby, I’d be 28 weeks along, coming into the home stretch, welcoming that third trimester with excitement. I’d be in high prep-mode: writing a birth plan, getting in contact with my doula, washing those itty-bitty newborn cloth diapers I bought when I first found out I was pregnant, taking lots of baths, devouring books on natural birth/birthing choices (Ina May’s Guide to Childbirth, Ina May Gaskin; The Thinking Woman’s Guide to Childbirth, Henci Goer; Pushed: the Painful Truth about Childbirth and Modern Maternity Care, Jennifer Block, just to name a few!), and prepping myself emotionally, pyschologically and spiritually to give my child the most gentle and meaningful birth I possibly could. It’s so hard to believe that so much time has passed when I still feel like it was yesterday when we found out there was something wrong. I do know that one reason why it’s still so painful is because that baby was supposed to be our last — number five — the last little one to complete our family and now the little void can no longer be filled by that child.
Some of us have been able to move on more than others — my oldest daughter and son don’t talk about it much anymore, but when my 3 year old daughter plays with her dolls, the Mama always loses a baby. My husband sees the pain in my eyes when someone else we know shares their news of a pregnancy (Yes, it’s exciting for you! But sad for all of those who have lost babies! I wish I had been more aware of this when announcing my own previous pregnancies.) – he sees the pain when we’re at the grocery store and there’s a mama rubbing her swollen belly. I know our news didn’t effect a lot of people, mainly our families. There were a lot of people we hoped would be there for us that simply weren’t, for reasons we may never know — it’s past now and the last thing I want to hear now is “Sorry I didn’t let you know then…” or ”I didn’t know what to say then…” – but there were also a lot of people who did carry us through. God blessed us in the smiles of strangers, whose best wishes to us gave the most strength.
I think as I move forward in my emotional recovery, one of the best things I can remember is that the Lord gives and the Lord also takes away…blessed be the name of the Lord. I do keep thinking of that a lot and it has helped tremendously. The Lord deserves as much praise now in this time as He did when I first realized I was pregnant…the loss of my child doesn’t diminish the fact that He is good. He is as much in the sadness when pregnancy ends as He is in the joy when it begins and I truly do believe that.
I don’t know what’s in store for us in the future. Another baby? I don’t know. Maybe. It’s hard to even think about that because in my mind I still should be pregnant, y’know? I would love to say I know that God will again bless us – with that fifth baby — but I don’t know. I’m trying to be okay with that, but mostly I just want to fully heal…to get past that little ache in my heart and the desire to punch the face of every pregnant woman I see.
…obviously I’m doing better if I can crack a joke like that! :o)
Also, I’m going to try to promise that this is my last post on the subject…at least for now.