Saturday, April 23, 2011


Yesterday afternoon was the three week mark from the phone call from the nurse. Who was just so calm in telling me that my pregnancy wasn't viable and I needed to go to the hospital immediately. There was a millisecond when I thought (or hoped) that it was an April Fool's joke. But nobody is that cruel. Ya know, I didn't even really tell anyone that day because I thought they might think for a minute that I was joking.

It feels like its been months, not a few weeks. I feel like I've aged 10 years in the last three weeks. My heart doesn't ache any less than it did that afternoon. The physical pain is mostly gone, and I am thankful for that.

I get the feeling that some people think that I should be over it by now. No one has really said it, but I can tell by some of their looks. Not from any of the people that matter. My people are awesome. My people don't expect me to be back to my happy bubbly self all the time already. My people let me feel how I am feeling. My people don't pretend to know or pretend to care how I feel. My people know that while Baby Angel wasn't technically a baby in the medical terms, in my terms it was my child. And my people wouldn't expect anyone who has lost a child to be over it in just three weeks.

I've had a hard time not being able to be there for my people lately. I'm usually there to listen to them when they are upset, or to offer suggestions, maybe even just a hug. And my people are sad about this too, this wasn't just my baby, this was their grandbaby, their niece/nephew, etc. and they are mourning as well. But I don't have the capacity to be there for them. I wish I did, I'm good at that. I can't help them feel better about this, because I still feel broken. I can look at the bright sides all day long, but compared to the black hole of sadness and anger I feel, the brights seem really dim. To my people - I'm sorry I wasn't able, and am not able, to help you all through this. I do know that you're mourning too.

Emotionally I'm a little better. I don't break down nearly as often has I was. I still cry daily, but I can usually keep it together until I'm at home or at least not in the middle of a conversation. Mentally I'm a mess. I feel like I'm always a mess mentally, and this has really just added to the anxiety, stress, and fear that goes on in my head on a daily basis. What if I'm not strong enough to try again? What if I find the strength to try again, and this happens again? What if I find the strength to try again only to find out that this was my only time to be pregnant, I was only meant to experience it once? What if I can't come back from this and be ME again? I know that its useless to play "what if". I just feel like I have no control. No control over whats going on, no control over how I feel, no control over what I want to do.

Physically, I'm playing the waiting game. I prayed so hard that my hcg numbers would double and they didn't. Now it seems like I'm praying they will go back down to zero so I can be done making trips to the doctor every week. The pain in my arm from needle sticks is a constant reminder that I'm in the middle of a nightmare. I'm sleeping a little better, but my dreams are still bad. I'm pretty sure that my hair and skin can feel the effects of how I feel, because they are blah as well.



  1. I'm so sorry that you are going through this. I was just remembering my experience last year, and then saw your post. I have deep empathy for you. May God hold you in His tender arms and soothe you while you grieve.

    This grief is deep and profound. Be patient with yourself, and just be where you are. Do not expect too much from yourself, and keep expressing your feelings because it is the only way through this. It is natural to feel lost, out of control, confused, angry - all of it. Just keep walking, keep breathing, keep crying whenever you feel the tears.

  2. Sweetie, your people understand. Even if they, like me, don't know the depth of your pain from experience, they understand. I second everything Colorado Dreamer said. Just keep breathing, keep crying, and keep going where you can. And know that you can get help if the emotional part overwhelms you.

    You have all my prayers. May God grant you comfort and peace and rest. All my love...

  3. It never ever goes away. This week will be 6 years since I lost my first baby. Some people just don't understand the connection you have from that very first second you know there is another life there. But, there are some people who do. Hugs and prayers.


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