I have been meaning to blog. We have had a fabulous summer and so much fun. I need to blog all about it, but I need to put this out there so I can move on.
I had a baby....yep #5 unfortunately this little one couldn't join my family just yet. I miscarried again. My 3rd time. I thought I had figured out the "problem" and "reason" for my previous miscarriages and found myself getting really excited about my little peanut that was due April 14th.
I was nervous about being a Mom to 3. Everyone tells you that being a Mom to 3 is the hardest because you are out numbered, but I was also excited to hold another little creation. To pick out names, to cuddle, to love one more child. I am still loving one more child. This poor baby I tried not to love from the moment I saw 2 lines. I tried to be calm and not get attached. But from the moment I saw those lines I was. I was fully invested in being his/her Mommy.
I feel a little bit broken now. I don't know how else to describe it. I am not shattered. I am not beaten. I am not giving up, but just a little bit broken.
I spoke to a friend about the feeling of loss. You create a life for the child. You imagine the family and its presence in it. This baby may have only been with me for a few weeks but I had its whole lifetime played out starting with me carrying to full term, delivery and then holding my child.
I thought I would be tougher. I thought this is the 3rd time I understand it is all chemical and medically it means that the baby had a body that wasn't ready. The 3rd time doesn't make it easier.
I have two beautiful children I hold in my arms and tell them I love them every day. I thought that would make a miscarriage easier. I even told someone once that it did...oddly it doesn't. I look at them and then I grieve for the baby I didn't get to hold and see grow.
I was doing fine. There wasn't any real reason to worry except for the pit in my stomach. Then a little spotting, but nothing like the others. One day until the ultrasound, it was a very long day. I knew going in this should be a happy day. Did you get to have that? The happiness at the first appointment? I haven't. I get worried. I get emotional. Because before that appointment as much as I worry I am still in a state of innocence holding onto a glimmer of hope that my baby is happy and growing well. Laying down on the table and watching the black screen with very little movement. I have seen the screen before. I have seen the doctors face before. I know what it means, but it hurts still.
I wasn't just upset like weeping upset this time I was angry! I didn't want to lose another. I thought I had figured out the issues and this one I would keep. I was wrong. Yet again.
I told Doug I wasn't going to write about the baby. I can't move on though until his/her little life is acknowledged in our family history. I was pregnant. I was going to have a baby on April 14th.
There I said it. It doesn't make the pain suddenly slip away, but it does help.