Six days ago we lost our lovely Squishy. It’s been a roller coaster so far. One minute we’re both ok, the next minute everything seems wrong and like it will never be ok again.
It’s been an odd few days. People haven’t really acknowledged it, but then again why should they? Most people have given their condolences and that’s that for them. Their life is going in as normal. For Amy and I, it sort of feels like things have stopped. I don’t feel like my emotions are moving forward or backwards really, just staying the same. There are times when I forget and then it hits me like a tonne of bricks. Even small things like not bloating in the evenings any more and my breasts not being sore. No more waves of nausea either. The only reminder is the fact that I’m still bleeding.
I didn’t realise how hard a loss would be. I knew the emotions would be bad, but nobody tells you that sometimes miscarriage pains are as bad as giving birth. It seems cruel that our bodies have to go through all of that to lose a baby, when you’re meant to get a child in the end of it. The bleeding is horrendous and at times I have wondered if it will ever stop. Then there’s the emotional side. The grieving. The anger. The feeling absolutely heartbroken and hopeless. Then on top of all of that there are the “what ifs”. I’m assuming in the future the anniversaries will be hard, the times where I should have been pregnant. We will get through this, though.
I have a follow up at the hospital tomorrow. I did try and move it forward some, but I couldn’t actually get through to the department. I’m hoping everything is gone and we will soon be able to start again and try to fill the hole that was left behind by our first baby.
A friend kindly shared this with me, so I figured I would share it here in the hope that it brings a little something to someone, it certainly gave me a little bit of comfort in an odd way.
</blThis is an excerpt from “The Baby Catcher”
Colin, my twelve-year-old son, discovered me late one rainy afternoon sitting at the kitchen table, a damp Kleenex crumpled in my left hand, wiping my eyes as I tried to compose myself for his sake. It was the third week of January, two months after I’d miscarried a pregnancy, but I still found it impossible to get through a day without at least one meltdown into misery.
Colin asked, “Are you crying about the baby?” and when I nodded tearfully, he said, “Well, you just have to have another one, Mom, because it’s a Spirit Baby, and you should be its mother.”
I must have looked puzzled because he said, “Don’t you know about Spirit Babies? How could I know about them if you don’t? I mean, you’re my mom!” But he could see my perplexity.
So my first child, this not-yet-teenaged boy, pulled a wooden chair to my side and draped his thin arm across my shoulders, saying, “Well, Mom, here’s how it is. See, I was one myself, so that must be how I know. Anyway, every woman has a circle of babies that goes around and around above her head, and those are all the possible babies she could have in her whole life. Every month, one of those babies is first in line. If she gets pregnant, then that’s the baby that’s born. If she doesn’t get pregnant, the baby goes back into the circle and keeps going around with all the others. If she gets pregnant but something bad happens before the baby’s born…now listen, Mom, because here’s the really cool part. It goes back into the circle, but it becomes a Spirit Baby, and all the other babies give it cuts. Each month, it’s always first in line. Isn’t that great?
“So you just have to get pregnant again, and you’ll have the same Spirit Baby. If you don’t, though, then the baby circle will just beam that little Spirit Baby over to some other woman’s circle, and it’ll be first in line for her. It keeps being first in line somewhere until it finally gets born.
“But it’d be a shame for you not to have it yourself, because I know how much you want it. So you just have to try again. Mom, remember that baby you lost before I was born?” I nodded wordlessly. “Well, that was me. Really. I’ve always known I was a Spirit Baby. I mean, I know what I’m talking about here, Mom.”
(the story goes on that several months later, she did finally decide to try again and conceived her ‘spirit baby’, for ‘the joy of it’–to quote her tweenage children)
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I have an appointment with the fertility dr on the 27th. He had a plan for me involving moving forward to clomid and a HSG and such, so I’m hoping we can still move forward with that plan.
I’m hoping Amy and I don’t have to wait another two years and four months for our rainbow.