January 2002 I found out I was pregnant.
It was exciting.
I didn’t think about anything going wrong. I was bummed that the OB/GYNO required me to be eight weeks before seeing me. January 31st could not come fast enough. I was already thinking about what our christmas pictures would look like.
I knew within minutes something was wrong. I remember the look of concern on the midwife’s face. There is nothing that prepares you to see that empty little circle on the screen. I remember the doctor telling me that I would probably start bleeding in a day or two.. That he was surprised that I hadn’t started bleeding already. Two years of trying to conceive, to get to here.
February 4th my dad passed away very suddenly. The next day, I started bleeding.
I try not to think about what I have lost. I try to focus on the good, the positive, the happy. Sometimes though it creeps back. I find myself reading other blogs and relating even though our loss was so early. It wasn’t lost on me when I did get pregnant and carry to term that this one was also due in August. What I never told anyone was that during the whole pregnancy with my daughter I never thought I would actually be bringing a baby home.
The difference between my pregnancy loss and the loss of my father were very different. Not just in the normal ways you may think. It seemed like people were less sensitive about the pregnancy loss than they were my father. The reoccurring thought that comes up when I think back to that time was a lot of people would say, ” Well it wasn’t meant to be, ” And ” He lived a good life.” Please don’t mistake this as me brushing off well meaning comments. I don’t fault what they were saying. In fact many times I was comforted. I am looking at this only as reflection.
The simple fact that stands out to me is…..a life was lost. It doesn’t matter how long or short that life was. Every life is precious. No matter what.
Society tends to make people very uncomfortable with talking about loss. Its something that is not discussed. Any kind of loss.
This has actually been a lot harder to write about than I thought. I thought I was ready. I know from experience that it means it’s still brewing and I will more than likely hit this subject again.
What hits the hardest for me is the loss of potential. I see what my a smart creative and beautiful person my daughter is turning out to be and I wonder. …..Would that child have been such a great mix of both myself and my husband? Would he/she have been more my traits or more my husbands physical traits? Would he/she be more sports oriented? More arts oriented? Would he/she be into climbing trees or playing tea party? What would this child have wanted to be when they grew up? What would I be like as a mother to two? Would my heart swell even more when I saw both my children with my husband than it does now when I see my daughter and him together? What would my daughter be like to be a younger sister?
So yes , I embrace every part of living vicariously through my friends pregnancies, their babies and I am content but not always at peace with stopping with one child. I miss the swell of the belly, the fluttery kicks, the sound of the heartbeat. The silky soft skin, the new wonder they gaze at the world with, The firsts, the joy, the laughter. I will spoil the children around me because they are miracles and for me its a step towards healing for me. It doesn’t seem like I should still be healing from something that happened in 2002.
I still don’t quite know how to answer when people ask if we are planning more. It doesn’t seem enough to just say no we aren’t. I feel a need to explain, not for sympathy but because I don’t want to forget either. I feel the need to shout I wanted more! I planned for more!