“The holiest of all holidays are those
Kept by ourselves in silence and apart,
The secret anniversaries of the heart”
-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I love the Longfellow quote about anniversaries of the heart and I've been thinking a lot about it this month as I've marked one of my own occasions that I have kept to myself. I've gone back and forth about whether or not I should write about it, but they say blogging is cheaper than therapy, so I finally decided, why not?
Bryan and I expected to be bringing a new baby home this month. A baby that, instead, we said goodbye to earlier this year. I never know how much I should say to other people about my miscarriage, but mostly it is because I don't want them to be uncomfortable. When people ask me if I want to have another baby, I simply answer yes. I don't say I want another baby more than anything--so badly I can taste it. I don't tell them the details about how my doctor wants me to wait at least a few more months before we even consider trying again or that at least once a week I do some quick math, counting on my fingers, to figure out how old Evan will be on the earliest possible date we could be bringing a new baby home. I don't mention how scared Bryan and I are that something could go wrong again. And I definitely don't mention the dates I am sure I won't forget.
What would have been my due date came and went at the beginning of the month. I thought about what I had planned to be doing that day, but I didn't break down and cry. But for some reason, I've been mourning the loss of the pregnancy completely over again this weekend. It could be because I got to spend a lot of time on Thanksgiving holding the sweetest little baby boy whose cheeks just begged to be kissed. It could be because on our drive home from Virginia Beach yesterday this sweet little old lady struck up a conversation with us. Her Alzheimer's, her son explained, led her to ask me no fewer than eight times if Evan was my only child. Each time I answered yes she told me I should have more and I shouldn't wait too long. It could be because last night we watched Juno--a cute movie about a girl who gives her baby up for adoption. Maybe it is all the Christmas preparations I've been doing and my subconscious can't help but remember that I thought there would be four of us on our Christmas card this year. Whatever it is, some tears have been falling!
I know time heals all wounds and that someday we'll either have a new addition to our family or, if that is not what is in store for us, we'll just simply love and adore the family we have. We are so blessed and lucky to already have our sweet little Evan. Even though he did decide to act up a little this morning, I now appreciate more than ever what a true miracle he is.
It is hard to know what to do with the anniversaries of the heart. There is no reason to be ashamed of them, but we don't really talk about them either. I know miscarriages are common, and in a way it is too bad we don't talk about them more often. Maybe if I had known more about how common they are I wouldn't have been so shocked when it happened to me, although I doubt I would have been any less sad.
I don't know why all of this has hit me again this weekend. It really makes no sense, but I guess that is just how those things go. So, if Bryan catches me being a little weepy, that is why. It is also the reason why I'll be showering Evan with a few more kisses than usual. And, to those of you who have little ones of your own, be sure to give them a few extra kisses, too. And, if anyone reading this is longing for a baby of her own, hang in there. I keep trying to remind myself we have no idea what the universe has in store for us. Although--some days it is easier to believe that than others.
(By the way--I can't get the spacing right on this post and I don't know why--so sorry for the paragraph breaks, or lack thereof).
4 comments:
I'm so sorry for your loss.
I totally understand every word of this. I also have dates logged in my mind from the little one we lost. Ours would be 2 this year for Christmas (hard to believe). I found that the best thing for me was to talk openly about it to whoever wanted to know and doing my research and finding out how common it really is. The hardest thing about it was seeing people with big families and being around friends that had small babies or were pregnant with theirs. And the comments people would make not knowing what we were going through. It does get easier, but we never forget. Thanks for sharing and hang in there.
I won't say I know how you feel, because even though I too have experienced a miscarriage, we each feel different. I will say I can understand what it is to want a baby. I miss the baby we lost and feel sad sometimes, but I thank God for my miracle, Hailee, and even though I know we most likely will not be blessed again I am glad to just have her. If you ever need an ear, remember I am a phone call/email away.
I am so sorry for your loss--I didn't know you had a miscarriage. It's hard to know what to tell people. Though I've never experienced a miscarriage, Clark and I have had our own fertility problems and I never know howm much to share with people, too. Know we are thinking and praying for you guys. I've decided that it doesn't matter if someone has been trying to get pregnant for 1 month or 5 years, or had a miscarriage, or whatever the situation is, any kind pregnany problem is extremely difficult. Hang in there. We love you!
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