I miss my little one. I miss going to bed at night with my hand resting on my budding belly. I miss the plans I had for this little one. I miss the dreams and the visions that I had of him or her joining our family. The ache is incredible. I never knew that this is how mothers felt when they miscarried. How would I ever have known that, without having experienced it myself? Now I know. I feel like I’ve joined a club, a club that I never wanted any part of. But, nonetheless, here I am. I’ll always be a member now.
I’m having trouble sleeping. It started about 7 days ago. I have never, ever, ever been one to have trouble falling alseep, or staying asleep for that matter. Sleep has always been my friend. But lately? Lately I am up until 3:00 sometimes 4:00 in the morning. My mind is just too busy. When I try to rest, my thoughts immediately go to the baby. Then those thoughts keep my mind busy and prevent me from falling asleep.
Who was that little one?
What would he have looked like?
Who would she have been?
What day would he have been born on?
Would she really have been born on Christmas?
How neat that would have been!
Why did this happen?
What went wrong?
Did I not eat well enough?
Was my red blood count too low?
Was my progesterone count not right?
Did he feel any pain?
Did she know me at all?
What would our lives have been like if he had lived?
When will I stop crying?
How can I cry for someone who I have never met?
Was the baby a boy?
Or a girl?
So eventually I get out of bed. I read. I watch t.v. late at night. I clean. I do laundry. Then I try to sleep again. And the whole thing starts over.
I just want sleeping pills to knock me out. But I don’t do that, because that’s not good. They say they are addicting. I don’t want that. I can’t risk that.
The fact is that I’m sad. There is no cure for being sad. Not this kind of sad, anyway. You just have to go through it. You just have to endure it until it just becomes a part of you. Once it becomes a part of you, then you can put it to the back of your mind more easily. See, right now….I’m still fighting it. I’m fighting it becoming a part of me. Which explains all the questions running through my mind. I want to find a reason, some logic as to why my baby died. It’s all part of the process. Once my mind accepts that there is no cure for this, that there is no answer that will take the sadness away… I bet then I will be able to sleep better. Because my mind will have surrendered. It will have become exhausted, trying to find the answers. When there are none.
It kinda reminds me of that movie from many years ago — War Games. Who out there remembers that movie? It starred a very young Ferris Bueler — er, I mean Matthew Broderick. The computer in the movie thought it was participating in a real war, and it would not stop playing. Finally, Matther Broderick challenged the computer to play itself in Tic-Tac-Toe in order to learn how to lose. It played over and over and over, faster and faster and faster and it kept ending in a tie game…until, it finally stopped and gave up, realizing there was no answer. I know that’s a strange analogy to what I’m going through. But that is what my mind and my thoughts are reminding me of lately. I just keep playing those questions over and over in my mind, day after day. I know that one day, I don’t exactly know when, but one day my mind will finally just realize that there is no answer to what happened. I guess that’s called acceptance? And maybe then I will be able to sleep. I don’t know. It’s just my theory. Because right now, no matter how hard I try, my mind just won’t stop playing.
Sending you so much love, T!
In the early 90s when my husband and I decided it was time to start a family it took six months for me to get pregnant. Then we went in for the ultrasound and discovered that there was no baby. It was diagnosed as a molar pregnancy and I was scheduled for a D & C. I remember that I kept thinking that it couldn’t be real, and what if they were wrong. My doctor wouldn’t let me try again for a year and kept testing my hormonal levels, as molar pregnancies can return.
Once I was given the go ahead to try again I was pregnant almost immediately…only to have another miscarriage. I was devastated. I had always wanted to be a mother and had never imagined my adult life without children.
The third time was the charm and my now 16 year old son was born. Before this experience I had NO idea what it was like. I never understood the pain that others felt when loosing a pregnancy before they even felt the baby move. I know what you mean about belonging to a new sorority, one that you never wanted to join. You will never forget this baby, it’s been nearly 20 years and I haven’t. But the pain does lessen with daily life. I pray you’ll find comfort.
My prayers are with you as well. Stay strong and focus on the positive things in your life. You have a passionate soul and a beautiful family.
Karina,
I’m sorry you are going through such a hard time, it’s all part of the grieving process, give yourself time and try to take care of your physical needs such as sleeping and eating right, you have many kids who depend on you.
I will pray that God gives you strength and carries you through this trial.
{{hugs}}