I lost my baby at 7:30 am yesterday.
Technically, that’s not true. I lost Tadpole six weeks ago. My body just didn’t want to admit it. We could have gone the route of naturally miscarry at home, but whatever your inclinations are, it just didn’t sound like a fun ride to me. Not that having a procedure done was a fun ride to begin with, mind you. It was the option I went with because I was in my second trimester. My OB/GYN said that I could have heavy bleeding and ended up going to the hospital even after waiting for it to naturally happen.
My parents came up to be with me for the procedure. My husband, squashing his natural tendencies to avoid hospitals, stayed with me. An outpouring of love, concern, and well wishes came from friends, my far flung family, and acquaintances that I rarely ever saw. As I listened to everyone’s shock and sadness on our behalf, one thing became clear…that miscarriages seem to happen all the time. This is and isn’t surprising to me.
Surprising because we supposedly live in a modern age. My own pregnancy was a gift of science. Not surprising because we seem, I think, to believe that just because we live in a glorious modern age that tragedy like this doesn’t happen often. Maybe, though, I am speaking for myself.
No, actually, I am speaking for myself.
Maybe, in the future, I will write more about this particular tragic chapter in my life. Right now, though, I’m a swirl of emotion; someone who can’t think straight; someone who is only going through the motions. I could sure use some routine, but then again, how effective would I be at the routine? I need to heal, not just physically, but emotionally and mentally. This has used a good chunk of my willpower, for lack of a better word.
One other thing, before I quietly leave, I am awfully damn lucky to have the husband that I have. Without him…well, it wouldn’t be pretty.
I guess what I’m saying is that you (or I) don’t need to be strong *all the time*; that we can have our moments of weakness. It makes us human..and perhaps makes us a bit saner.
As for me, maybe I can be quiet over here. Mourn my loss and learn to move on. I can’t stay stuck. I won’t stay stuck.