*Disclaimer: I continue to speak honestly – and at times graphically – about my recent miscarriage. If this bothers you, stop reading now. Writing this down is helping me get through everything, and I hope that this might help someone else who might be going through the same thing.
One week later…
I lay in bed last night, thinking that a week ago, I went to bed not knowing what lay ahead. I had stretched out on my tummy and watched a show on Netflix, wondering how much longer I could comfortably lay on my stomach like that. Then… the early morning… and the cramps… and the blood… and my life will never be the same again.
I feel like I have no more tears left. There’s just this lingering sadness, the same emptiness that permeates every fiber of my being. Except now, there’s anger and impatience creeping in… not at God or my situation necessarily… but I don’t have room for dealing with The Every Day and it’s getting to me. I feel like I was allowed a couple days to rest and recover, but that time has come to an end and I have to buck up and “get on with life.” After all… my kids need me, right? But when they’re yelling at each other because “give that back!” or whatever, I just don’t care. I know they’re little people who don’t understand what I’m going through, but keeping it in perspective isn’t coming easily to me right now.
I do what I have to do… get up, sometimes get dressed, make meals, do school… but I have no interest in other things right now. My sewing machine and piles of fabric are gathering dust, I might remember to fold the laundry if it bothers me enough, I guess the dishes need to get cleaned… but who really cares?
Even though I’m not crying every second of the day now, certain things open the floodgates. Addy, poking my belly and talking about the baby in there; I kept telling her the baby was gone, the baby died and went to heaven, but she kept insisting… so I left the room in tears and Phil took me in his arms. I wish he didn’t have to work so I could stay in his arms a while longer.
I don’t feel like going anywhere, seeing anyone… afraid of bumping into someone I know and I just can’t keep my shit together or pretend like everything is normal or deal with the sympathy… but I ran some errands and it was hard. Passed the church where my kids went to VBS last month, where I picked them up after my ultrasound and breathed a sigh of relief that there was “just one in there” and showed the picture to Phil, to a friend who already knew we were pregnant.
Going to the store and seeing baby clothes, thinking how I was just waiting to find out whether I was having a boy or a girl so I could buy a few things – don’t really need them, but it’s always nice to have some brand new baby stuff. Had just asked some friends to borrow some of their things. Don’t need them anymore. Walked down the aisle where I had walked a few times recently, shopping for a baby shower… planning a shower for my sister-in-law, our babies who were supposed to be so close in age.
Getting a weekly pregnancy update telling me how big my baby is now and how I’m feeling at 13 weeks… despite canceling my membership so I wouldn’t receive those updates anymore. Seeing ads for maternity clothes everywhere, putting my maternity clothes and pregnancy books away, thinking of all the future dates when I won’t be pregnant, won’t be celebrating a birthday, won’t won’t won’t…
I know God “wipes my tears away” and “heals the brokenhearted” and all that… but honestly, though I’m not mad at Him, I’m not feeling particularly comforted by His promises. Yes, I will see my child in Heaven one day, and my mourning may not last forever, and eventually whatever… but this is NOW.