Tuesday, November 20, 2012

And Then the Other Shoe Dropped

As I can imagine my few loyal followers have probably figured out due to my delay in posting, we lost our 7th baby. This time at 6w4d, and just two days before our first ultrasound.

I have wanted to come out here and blurt out my feelings a few times, but haven't been able to make myself post until now. Our hearts are absolutely shattered...we're still picking up tiny pieces every day. I break down occasionally at the most inconvenient times, and other times I feel strong when I feel like I shouldn't be strong. Grief is a funny thing that way. I can turn away from it, pretend it's not there, go on with life as if nothing has happened. But suddenly, out of nowhere, it slams into you like a Mack truck. Crushing you over and over, and then reversing and running you over yet again. Sometimes it is accompanied by floods of tears, sometimes silent screams of torture. At times I yearn for the numbness where I can't feel anything...where I am impervious to pain. The worst part of all is struggling in virtual silence, alone. My (amazing) husband can commiserate, be compassionate, attentive and 100% willing to do anything for me. But even he doesn't know what it ALL truly feels like. The physical, the mental, the overall feeling of having your heart ripped from your body. He knows too much of the pain, but even he can't feel all of it.

Other mothers who have suffered loss do know this feeling, and some handle it differently than others. Just as everyone handles grief in their own way. Sometimes I envy those who appear strong on the outside, until I remind myself that things aren't always what they appear. Just as I suffer, they suffer too. Most of us suffer in silence. We suffer in silence because you never know how someone will react. People have all sorts of ideas of when they think a baby becomes a baby. I won't risk the chance of someone telling me these babies who have started to grow inside of me weren't "real". Because my view is not shared equally with everyone, it becomes a taboo subject. People feel awkward. They don't know what to say or how to react. So, for the most part we continue to suffer quietly, not willing to risk bringing up the subject in fear of being hurt (mostly unintentionally).

Unfortunately, there are people in the world who believe "everything happens for a reason" "it'll happen when the time is right" "God wasn't ready for you to be a mother yet" are words of comfort and compassion.  I have heard all of these things, and more. While they are meant to be comforting, they don't realize those words can sting just as badly as saying nothing at all. By this point, I've learned to steel myself against those words, and expect them. I whoosh them right out of my brain as soon as I see or hear them. It does me no good to reflect on them or be angry about them. They usually aren't meant to be hurtful. But let this be a lesson to those of you who might use those words to someone in a similar position. They are not generally helpful, even if we nod in agreement.

Being raised Catholic, having believed in God, a higher power, that something out there must exist for most of my life...my faith has been shaken by these experiences. This loss has further solidified my position as a non-believer. I certainly have not been perfect in my life or always done the right thing, but I have done nothing awful enough which would be worthy of this punishment. No one should be reduced to screaming in their living room in pain because they are losing their baby. No one should have to watch the sadness and desperation in their husband's eyes as they hold you helplessly, unable to comfort, unable to stop bad things from happening, unable to fix what's wrong. I did nothing to deserve this kind of heartbreak and pain and I cannot stand to believe that someone "up there" is MAKING this happen because I'm learning some life lesson or the time isn't right or it just wasn't meant to be. No being could be that cruel. I can't take comfort in the thought that someone has given me this path or that it's supposed to shape me to be a better being or that it's for some cause or reason. That thought has become unacceptable to me.

For now, we're at a standstill. We talk about things often. We go back and forth between wanting to try right away again because we might be on the right track and being so weary and hurt...we're not sure if we're willing to take the chance of having to repeat this pain. It hurts to be unable to be excited about a positive test, or making it further than we have before. To have to stifle your excitement and be realistic about your expectations. Heck, to not be ABLE to have any expectations. It's a nearly impossible thing to do. I went about this last baby as if everything was on track and perfect. And it was. Until it wasn't.  There is something very unfair about that.

I thank you all for your kind thoughts (even if they're not seen or heard, because I know you're still sending them my way) and compassion. I hope some day to be able to bring some truly good news to this blog instead of seemingly constant disappointment.


  1. I swear you are writing everything I feel. Andrea this is such a tough time and it's completely unfair that those who fight so hard for this gift come up empty handed. I'm still going through a lot of what you posted and I want you to know we can scream together <3 I know it's not necessarily helpful but know you're not alone in any way. I'm, along with others are here for you and deeply care for you and your happiness. I'll be cheering you on!