(You can find part one here)
Now it is September. I did my best to forget the actual due date, I didn't want the number to cripple me. But there is no denying it, if things had gone differently we would be holding and loving our sweet baby by now. The many other family and friends due at the same time have all had their babies. Those sweet baby faces bring me so much joy and heartache at the same time.
Now it is September. I did my best to forget the actual due date, I didn't want the number to cripple me. But there is no denying it, if things had gone differently we would be holding and loving our sweet baby by now. The many other family and friends due at the same time have all had their babies. Those sweet baby faces bring me so much joy and heartache at the same time.
Of all the regrets I have, one of the biggest is I never asked what the baby's gender was. I was afraid that if I new, it would make it more real and more difficult. Turns out it is real no matter what. Now, I feel like I am not allowed to mourn because my baby was a nameless, genderless nothing loved only by me. Without a name, it never was. I want to make donations and do good in honor of my baby, but there is no name, just a forgotten pregnancy that went wrong.
I have also struggled morning the loss of my ability to have children. One thing you might not know about Kent and I is we are total suckers for babies. We LOVE babies and we are very good at taking care of them. We might not know what to do with toddler tantrums, but we rock at being parents of a newborn (I know that is when they are easy). It felt so bad that I couldn't give my husband the baby and family he wanted. I was sad I would never see him tenderly cuddle a little one of our own. I love to see him like that, it's a unique and treasured moment now gone.
The loss has been hard on all the family, especially little H. At 4 years, he just doesn't understand. A few weeks ago he was watching a tv show where a new baby was born. He got so excited and said, "Mom, I am going to be such a good big brother when we have our baby." I had to explain to him (again) there was no baby and we can't have any more. He got very upset and said, "You can, you're just not trying hard enough." His innocent statement hit me right in the heart.
The loss has been hard on all the family, especially little H. At 4 years, he just doesn't understand. A few weeks ago he was watching a tv show where a new baby was born. He got so excited and said, "Mom, I am going to be such a good big brother when we have our baby." I had to explain to him (again) there was no baby and we can't have any more. He got very upset and said, "You can, you're just not trying hard enough." His innocent statement hit me right in the heart.
I have been all over the place emotionally. Anger, frustration, sadness, uselessness along with hope, relief and love have been my companions these past few months, but the most common feelings I have had are loneliness and confusion.
It's not that I don't have amazing support from family and friends, but infertility and/or pregnancy loss are just lonely. People don't know what to say, and they often say nothing. It's hard to control the tears when people ask if we are expecting agin (No, it's just the weight I've gained) and it's hard not to be frustrated when people joke about being pregnant "Uhhh! can you imagine... I'd die if I was pregnant..." It's hard to know who you can talk to. There are countless nights I cry to myself, for myself. I don't want to burden others with my pain, it's not theirs to carry. I also don't want people to feel uncomfortable, but I don't want to live in emotional isolation either.
It's not that I don't have amazing support from family and friends, but infertility and/or pregnancy loss are just lonely. People don't know what to say, and they often say nothing. It's hard to control the tears when people ask if we are expecting agin (No, it's just the weight I've gained) and it's hard not to be frustrated when people joke about being pregnant "Uhhh! can you imagine... I'd die if I was pregnant..." It's hard to know who you can talk to. There are countless nights I cry to myself, for myself. I don't want to burden others with my pain, it's not theirs to carry. I also don't want people to feel uncomfortable, but I don't want to live in emotional isolation either.
I felt so strongly we were supposed to have another baby it was difficult for me to even process the news. How could it all be over? I hate to admit it, but I have even been frustrated with God. Why would he tell me to go down this path if it was only going to lead to heartache? Am I such a bad mother he would literally seal my womb to make sure I didn't have another? I was trying to be obedient, why? Did I just misunderstand the whole thing, maybe I didn't understand promptings from the spirit? Did I do something wrong?
I wish I could tell you I have found the answers, but I haven't. Something tells me I may never know the answers to most of those questions. I know there are some who would read this as an evidence that there is no God or that he doesn't answer our prayers. I don't feel that way. I may never know why, but I also knows that no matter what He loves me.
Before we were able to go to the Dr. to see if our baby was okay, before there was any reason to worry, my Heavenly Father told me in a very personal and special way that our baby was gone and that I was loved. At the time, I thought I received that special message because of the heartache from loosing the baby. Now, I know it was also to help me now. To help me know that no matter what, He loves me. I might not understand, but I am in his watchful, loving care.
In the end there is only one answer to my prayers.
Doctrine and Covenants 101:16
Psalms 46:10
I have hope that it will all be okay. For all flesh (even mine) is in His hands. I just need to be still and know that He is God, He is Love, He is...
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