Thursday, October 14, 2010


I'm supposed to be packing right now, but I need to put this into words.

This week was a lot harder than I anticipated.
When I posted this blog on Monday, I had no idea that it was National Pregnancy Loss week. When I saw the first "status update" announcing so, I wanted to stay off of facebook this week. I've been trying to deal with this all on my own terms, and to be frank, I'm pretty upset.

I knew that I lost the June baby the night it happened. I suppressed that thought quickly bc I didn't want anyone's pity, I didn't want anyone to compare me to anyone else, and I had no idea what to do. My trauma wasn't as severe as many of my good friends, and I felt like I'd be taking something away from them if I said I understood...but man do I.
When I filled out my paperwork for this pregnancy at the midwifery center, I didn't know how to answer the "Number of pregnancies" question. I felt like I was lying, like I didn't want to admit that my body had just failed. But I never got to see a baby on the screen, never got that little sign, but I knew.
A friend that I been sharing the fact I "knew" I was pregnancy asked me a few weeks later if I thought I had miscarried. I didn't want to say yes, that would be too hard. I just said "We'll never really know :\"
Hearing everyone's stories this week and seeing those who have had more obvious...maybe that's not the right word...but more obvious miscarriages and how they've gotten the chance to mourn, grieve, and re-cooperate has made me mad. BUT WHY SHOULD IT?! I was quickly blessed with this pregnancy, my loss only took a few days longer than my normal period, not weeks or months like other women, but my hurt was still there, I just refused it- to the point that it's hurt this pregnancy for me.

I have three close friends who have miscarried in the year since Lily's birth and they always talk about how they miss their babies. I want to say, SO DO I! I never even got to feel them! I even lashed out on a friend who said she had mixed feelings about her pregnancy because she knew that she wouldn't have THIS baby right now, if she didn't lose her first. I wanted to cry on her shoulder and say "Me too..." But no. I said "Stop dwelling on it" Like a mean, hurtful, bitter friend. I didn't get to say "I don't get to, so you shouldn't" but that's what I felt.

So tonight, before I leave to Rockport I'm going to start this process of healing for this baby, and be so, so, so grateful for the baby I have, the BABIES I have. First, her name is June. It's the first name I thought of when I got my suspicions. June wasn't even more than a few cells, but in the very short time I had her, I loved her so much. I was so excited for us, and I was so excited for Lily, I was excited to birth her.
I can't even tell you how much better just putting that into words feels...

If any of you have gone through something similar, I would love to hear your encouragement. I'll be back after the weekend after some time with my family in Rockport, but would still love to hear from you.

Thank you for letting me share.


Kathryn Nordyke said...

Somehow I've stumbled across your blog again, and it hit me deeply.

I've lost a dear sweet baby, and yes it was much later in my pregnancy, BUT it does not matter how long you carry your child (or whether you have the "positive" sign or not), that child was yours, and IS yours.

I still grieve over my dear sweet baby every time I reach the date that I lost him, and every time I pass my due date.

I hope you give yourself permission to grieve, no one will think less of you, and if they do, then they are ignorant. blessings to you.

MamaEm said...

Wow. I just found your blog through Mommypotamus' fabulous list of birth stories (yours was amazing, by the way), but this post really hit home. I had an ectopic pregnancy in 2009. I never had my first midwife appt, never saw my baby on an ultrasound, but had time to celebrate my pregnancy with my husband and my immediate family. Walking into the ER, knowing I was losing my baby, was one of the hardest things I've ever done. My right fallopian tube was removed that day. We mourned quietly, but I healed through talking about my experience with other women who had miscarried and realizing I wasn't alone. Opening up was healing for me.
361 days later, I birthed a beautiful baby girl. I appreciated every day of morning sickness, every kick, and every hiccup until she was born, so scared and yet so thankful.
Be well :)