The kitchen resembles a war zone so I decided to run out and get lunch. As I walked in to the Chik-fil-a, I ran into an acquaintance I hadn't seen in years. She was holding a tiny baby in a yellow monkey onesie. We paused to chit chat. She congratulated me on my pregnancy. I congratulated her on her son. She asked when I was due. I asked when her baby was born. He came two weeks late, she said with a smile, November 21.
On a good day I can't do math to save my life, yet somehow this instantly processed: Her due date was November 7. My due date. I imagined her as she saw the positive pregnancy test, February 2009. I imagined as she told her parents. As she saw the ultrasounds. As she had baby showers. As she gave birth. And now there he was. A visible tangible reminder of what could have been. Speck would have been just that big. He could have been curled on my shoulder just like that. But he isn't because he left my body April 13, 2009.
I kept it together until she left but I was amazed how quick the tears sprang and how sharp the pain still is. I felt like something inside me was twisting and falling apart. I thought I had healed but despite where I am right now, pregnant with a beautiful baby inside me, seeing in physical form what could have been still has the power to hurt.
I made myself snap out of it. I took a deep breath, drank some water. Counted my blessings on each finger (Sunflower, Sunflower, Sunflower. . .) and got it together. But I learned something today- you can move forward, you can be happy again, you can make peace with the pain, but the pain- somewhere inside you, it remains.
Yes it does, and when it sneaks up on you, it sneaks up on you good.
ReplyDeleteUnfortunately, I believe I know exactly what you mean. I've gotten to the point where I don't think about it obsessively. I don't walk around feeling like a big ball of pain. I can even spit out one sentence about it and keep things under control, but to actually have a conversation about it...it kills me. I still get up in the middle of the night to pee and catch myself rubbing my belly and then I crawl back into bed and think...I should be huge right now. I should be feeling kicks and punches and somersaults. I should know what it is and be filling carts with gender appropriate baby stuff. But I'm not. And that reminder is a real kick in the gut.
ReplyDeleteI don't imagine that once I'm pregnant that will magically make it all go away. In fact, I'm quite confident that it will hang with me the rest of my life, and I'll never think of it without knowing deep down how much I really lost.
I'm sorry that you had one of those moments. They suck to high heaven.
I agree. :)
ReplyDeleteI know exactly what you mean.I have misscarried a twice,the last time was at 12 and a half weeks,4 years ago and I find myself thinking about my little ones alot even now.I went on to have other children and am actually pregnant with a little boy and due on the 7th May :)but one doesn't replace the other.We planted a tree in our garden for our lost little ones and I find comfort that they have a little spot at our place just for them.
ReplyDeleteI just cant get past the point where you called your baby Speck, as that is what we all called my starbaby when I was pregnant. My ILs even had Speck embroidered on a tiny bag for him. I feel your pain, love. It catches you by surprise, doesnt it? And its like being hit by a mack truck. xxxx
ReplyDelete((((((((((((HUGS))))))))))))))
ReplyDeleteEvery time I see Feb 2008 or Nov 2008 babies, it brings a pain to my heart and a tear to my eyes... I totally get this post...
ReplyDeletei'm sorry you had that painful reminder, while time heal wounds it definitely doesn't mean you will ever forget.
ReplyDeleteI could write out a long thoughtful comment, but its best said this way.
ReplyDeleteDitto.