Monday, October 10, 2016

Trigger warning: Five years post miscarriage thoughts

Tomorrow will be October 11th, and it will mark five years since I lost our baby#2 at around 11-13 weeks pregnant.

FIVE YEARS.  I can’t believe it.  I still remember it as if it happened just yesterday.  It obviously doesn’t hurt as much as it did then, but it definitely still aches.  I wonder if that pain will ever go away.  Honestly, I feel like it would have by now if it was going to.  But the fact is, having that happen changed me in a big way, and I don’t see how I could ever fully get over going through that.

I am SO blessed (not meant religiously, but it’s the best word to describe it) to have the children that I do.  I am so grateful that I had such a perfect pregnancy with Andrew, who is going to be EIGHT at the end of this year, and who is a healthy, happy, smart, adorable, WONDERFUL boy.  I am so, so lucky to have had such a perfect first experience with pregnancy and birth and the infancy stage and so forth.  My pregnancy following the loss was obviously more complicated given that it was with twins, but how amazingly lucky am I to have been able to have TWO babies at once when most women are lucky to have just one at a time?!  I will always marvel at the fact that we have twins, and although I had concerns throughout the pregnancy and worried about what the delivery would be like, and nearly lost it when Emily didn’t cry at first and I thought she wasn’t OK - when all was said and done, the pregnancy went very well, the birth experience was as good as I could have possibly hoped for, and I ended up with two healthy babies who will be 4 in less than a week, and who are bright, beautiful, smart, funny and just the sweetest little girls in the whole wide world.  I love my kids more than anything in the universe, and I KNOW I am such a lucky mama to have them.

Without the loss I experienced, I would not have Margaret and Emily in my life.  I know that if I’d had my two singletons I would have known no different, and I do like the idea of not having the pain right in my core from the loss, and not have to know what it’s like to have flashbacks to a tragic experience, because I wouldn’t have had that if not for that miscarriage.  However, as much as I wish that baby had survived, I ultimately have to be grateful, for lack of a better word, because I LOVE my boy and I LOVE my two girls, and I really couldn’t have it any other way knowing what I know now.  I couldn’t imagine not having my twins!  I just will never have answers to my questions about the miscarriage, and I think that’s what truly haunts me.  I had to say ‘11-13 weeks pregnant’ because I don’t even have the answer to how far along I was, since I was 2 days away from my dating ultrasound.  I can only say from those few seconds seeing my baby, I am pretty sure I was more like 13 weeks despite that I should have only been around 11.

Shortly after it happened, (a few weeks or month later I think) I remember sobbing about it at a doctor’s visit, and he told me that I HAD to let go of wanting answers because I literally would NEVER have them and I needed to not dwell on that because it would consume me in an unhealthy way because answers were 100% impossible.  I obviously don’t DWELL, and I wouldn’t say it consumes me by any means, but there’s a bit of a nag there whenever my mind remembers.  I would say I remember on a daily basis still, at the very least every few days but I don’t think a day fully goes by that I’m not aware.  It’s just part of who I am, and I guess I should just be thankful that it wasn’t even worse than it was, because I know relative to a lot of women my experience wasn’t that bad, although that in itself is a tragedy to me because to me, it was the most awful experience of my life.

If I could have held the baby and not have had it whisked away so suddenly.  If I hadn’t felt so entirely helpless and shocked in that moment.  If James had been with me and saw it with me.  If I hadn’t been alone in my experience.  If I’d been able to see if it was a boy or girl.  If any tests could have been done to possibly figure out what had gone wrong.  If I’d asked more questions during the ultrasound the day before.  I have so many what if’s still.  I know I can never answer any of it.  But I can’t help but still ask those questions inside my head, and feel sad that I’ll just never know.  And play over in my mind what happened, although I try not to think about it most of the time.  I still feel uneasy about the fact that I have to carry that weight with me literally for the whole rest of my existence, and that’s just the way it is.  It hurts, I’m not going to lie.  I don’t really talk about it anymore.  Occasionally I’ll mention something to James about it, I know he knows it still affects me, but it just is what it is at this point.  There’s nothing that can change it, and I don’t think I dwell in an unhealthy manner, it’s just something that’s there that I have to live with.  I will always find it extremely difficult to drive past, or anywhere remotely near, RCH Emergency.  I think I might rather die than ever step foot in there again, not kidding.  It’s just the way it is.

I’m happy, and I love my family, and I really, really, REALLY am so glad things worked out the way they did so that I got my two girls as well as their big brother.  I’m not happy or glad that a baby we created had to die in order for us to get where we are now, but I also know we wouldn’t have what we have if it hadn’t worked out that way.  I guess it’s a bit bittersweet.  But also incredible that our two girls were born one year and 3 days after the loss.  I know I was SO fortunate to be able to get pregnant again just four months after the loss, and end up with two perfect babies from that pregnancy. It's a wonderful outcome ultimately, I am definitely aware of that, but it's still hard.

Baby #2 died right on Thanksgiving 2011, which definitely changed this holiday, and my life, forever, but I also know I have so much to be thankful for every day, and my three kids are what I’m grateful for the most.  XXX

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