The Longest Year, of my life.

Today, I remember walking into my doctors office in Dublin, OH thinking I was going to be able to see my baby at 13 weeks gestation and walk out smiling from ear to ear. That hope went right through the hard blinds and thick glass of the small office I sat in that day when I heard, “there is no heartbeat.”

To hear that my months of hopes and dreams were gone, it wasn’t only a blow to my heart, it was a blow to my entire being. I remember grabbing my phone and calling Luke, not breathing, trying to swallow the frog in the throat.. it was unbearable. Sometimes I still feel those hot tears steaming within my eyes.

It has been one year ago today that I realized my life was no longer the same. Many people realize this when they become pregnant.. not me. I just saw it as my life was changing for the better and improving. But in that moment of pure heartbreak, it was an overwhelming feeling of defeat and anger. Losing a child makes you think awful things of yourself, you want to die with them.. you want to stop breathing with them.. you want the doctor to tell you that your heartbeat was nonexistent too.

I have been asked many times within the last year if I was depressed from the miscarriage – I have never answered that question honestly. The honest answer is yes. Yes, I am depressed and sad and lonely and so many other things that would lead one to never want to smile again for as long as they live. But, my feeling of depression is different from the things I have read on Facebook, Google, etc. about the topic. I am okay with being depressed while living my everyday life. It is just another thing that defines who I am and what crosses my mind daily. I am not ashamed of this, and no I do not need medication or a counselor for my depression.

I have been through counseling before, it helps apply a band-aid to my feelings and put my thoughts out on the notepad of someone sitting in a chair in front of me that thinks they understand. It was okay for my molestation and abuse as a child, it was okay for the loss of family members in my teen years.. but for the loss of my own child.. no thanks. I will share my feelings and emotions with my significant other, the only other person that knows how I feel because it was OUR child.

As I sit here, I have a growing belly below my chin that I can see in my peripheral vision. I am harvesting my second child, a little girl that I am so ready to welcome into the world in just a matter of months. It’s still mind blowing that it has been a year since the devastating loss of my first child, and even more mind blowing that I am sitting here writing about that loss as I grow another human. I am brave, and I know that. I am proud of my bravery.



This child is just meant to be.

What? Please don’t fucking say that to me. Every child created is meant to be.. don’t confuse your need to say something empowering for actually saying something useless and painful.

You know, there was just something not “right” about your first.. I’m glad this one is growing and doing well.

Again, please don’t fucking say this to me. Do you seriously think I don’t know that there was something wrong with my first child? Do you think I haven’t thought about that for the last 365 days of my life? And do you honestly think that my second child is better than my first because she is thriving more than my first ever had a chance too? Shut up and think before you open your mouth, please.

Now you’re over the hurdle of the first trimester, you don’t have to worry about this one.

You’ve made it to the “safe zone” so you don’t have to worry so much now.

This baby will be great, don’t worry about that anymore. Start preparing for her to come.

Yes, I have been told all of these (in various forms). It still baffles me that people think these comments are supposed to make me feel better. Did they forget that I was entering the second trimester when I learned about my miscarriage? Do they think that just because I am pregnant again, I should forget about the reality of history repeating itself? Do they honestly think there is such thing as a “safe zone” during pregnancy – have they not heard of stillbirth? And most of all, physical preparation does not mean you’re mentally ready.


I am terrified. I am worried. I am stressed. I am full of anxiety. I am pregnant. I am in pain. I am excited. I am sick. I have a broken heart. I am waiting. I am impatient. I am patient. I am depressed. I am happy. I am in love.

I am a mother, of two.


12279000_936962419712352_1796098788223897061_n

Advertisements

Leave your thoughts, response, reply, etc.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s