Monday February 7, 2011
How can I say thank you for the hundreds of kind words that have been flooding my inboxes and telephone and in real life?
How can it feel as though I have lived ten weeks in the space of two?
How do you tell a story that isn’t finished?
Where is the line between sharing your story and forgetting to close the bathroom door when you vomit?
How can you tell a story that is true because it happened to you in a way that will not hurt someone else?
And so I walk away. Time and again. Yet, I want to write.
Because it helps me to process.
Because so many people have shown so much care and are asking how I am.
Because so many people have honored and blessed me by sharing their story. Their courage gives me courage.
And so I will write. Because maybe someday, my story can help to bring healing to someone else.
That Tuesday night as I went to bed it felt as though my family and friends, acquaintances and even strangers were joining hands in ever widening circles around me. I have felt held up and supported in the past two weeks in ways beyond imagining. People have been so kind. Over and over and over again. Friends were just there. They called to see how I was doing and no matter what stage of grief I was in, they just listened, responded to me at that stage, and cared. When I cried, they cried with me. When I was in denial of my grief and just wanted to ignore it, “they didn’t keep bringing it up or say, “but that was a baby.” They just quietly let me know it was ok to grieve if and when I needed to. And when I needed space and couldn’t talk, they gave me that, too.
I feel humbled. And loved. And I’m just going to say, I have the best families in the world.
It felt as though I went through almost every stage of grief just in that first day. The shock, the denial, the sobbing, and in the end a measure of acceptance. That this is the way things were supposed to be. And underneath it all, I felt a strong sense of gratitude.
This is kind of where I’d like to just stop. Or at least put out a lot of disclaimers. Or something. I do not understand the physiology of grief. I know that our experiences elsewhere in life cause us to respond in different ways to situations. I don’t know why some hard things feel manageable to one person and feel like so much darkness and shattering to another. I don’t know why God chose to lead me so gently through this experience, yet left me reeling in darkness and despair during the time I couldn’t get pregnant; but He did. Please know that if you are reading this and experienced the same situation and it was not gentle for you, there is not something wrong with you. It’s not because you weren’t spiritual enough or in tune with God or weak emotionally. And please know that if someone you love has an anembryonic pregnancy, she may not feel the same way I did. Just love her and give her grace and space and time the same way you did to me. Ok, fears be gone.
Back to the gratitude. Even before I got pregnant this time, I had this premonition that something was going to be wrong with our baby. So I’m a worry wart, but this was stronger than normal. After I did get pregnant, it faded a little. Yet, in the back of my mind, something felt wrong. I think God gave me the gift of foreshadowing and I cannot tell you how much it helped me during that sad week. It was like those words came out of my mouth without me even thinking about it. There was a ladies luncheon planned the day of my prenatal visit and I could not wait to waltz in and announce my pregnancy because I knew they would all celebrate with me. But when my SIL asked me Sunday if I’m coming I said, “Yes … if there’s nothing wrong with the baby.” And even the night before my visit when we took the cutest little pregnancy announcement picture and I was dying to put it on xanga I said, “but what if there’s no baby?”
It’s not that I would not have loved a child who had serious handicaps. But it’s not what any mom dreams of for her child. And most of all, I had a huge fear of carrying a baby for seven months or even full term and then losing the baby. Or like my mom and dad, watching their newborn be rushed to a larger hospital and then to see him live for thirteen days before losing him to his many, many health issues. No mother ever, ever wants to lose a child, but in my mind, carrying a child almost to term and then losing the baby before you ever feel one tiny puff of baby breath against your cheek is the absolutely most heart-rending grief of all. Because of that and because of the way it felt as though something was wrong, I felt that God was sparing us of so much. That he took the baby when he / she was so tiny I could not even see a baby was in reality a gift. Especially when I read that 50% of anembryonic pregnancies are the result of serious chromosomal defects and the baby has no chance at life.
(how symbolic is this … my SIL gave me three rose buds and they never opened … just like our baby)
In the next two days I bounced around between denial and sadness. For awhile, my words, “there is no baby” as I called David, haunted me. It felt as though there really was no baby. What was I supposed to grieve? The death of a dream? Slowly, my heart began to believe. Because I feel so strongly that life begins at conception when we’re talking about birth control, it is also for me to believe that life began at conception this time. So if the “baby” lived for five minutes, it is still ok for me to grieve a baby. And the truth is, a baby doesn’t implant for about three days and mine did so even if I couldn’t see it, it was a baby.
That weekend just felt sad. I cried a lot. Not angry tears that things had gone wrong, but sad tears for what couldn’t be. I felt sad that we couldn’t know this baby even though Liam’s story helped me to have perspective. If we would have had the baby we wanted to have that time, we would never have known Liam. And how would I ever have lived so well without knowing his sweetness? So once again I find myself believing that God knows when the right time is for our family. I feel sad for the loss of sharing the pregnancy journey with a friend who is also pregnant. And sometimes, that grief is the hardest of all. Because even though what happened does not feel like a mistake, I am sad for what I wish would have been.
It is hard to feel as though your body is associated with death. As though in some ways you are the cause of it. I woke up one morning with this enormous urge to run to Lowes and buy a tree to plant. Anything to be involved with life instead of death. But the world was covered with a layer of sleet and then snow and clearly it wasn’t an option. I still want to plant something this Spring. I want something tangible to remember. When people die, we place gravestones. I’ll never have that, but I want a visual reminder of this part of our life.
The week before Christmas I was scrapbooking Liam’s baby pictures and re-read his birth story. I looked at my journaling during that time before I got pregnant … the questions about faith, about believing that God is good and gives good gifts … and I wondered, did I learn anything at all? Just a few days before my prenatal visit, I remember my unbelief. I was washing my hands, thinking about how quickly we’d gotten pregnant this time and how I could not believe that God had actually given me that gift. That I still didn’t believe He would actually do that to me. And after I called David and my mom that Tuesday with the sad news, I remember thinking, “See, God doesn’t give good gifts to me.” Yet by the time I got home and felt the promise in the sunshine, I had gotten to the point of gratitude for all the reasons above. And I felt so incredibly grateful for His gift of taking the baby so early. Because it’s never easy, but this was so much easier. I remembered some of my friends with primary infertility who would give almost anything to go through this instead of never, ever conceiving. To have known for even four weeks that they are pregnant. But most of all, it felt so good to know that while my faith and belief that God is good is not as unflappable as I wish, I did learn something in the darkness.
Like one of my former co-workers said on facebook in response to our loss, “While you are in a sea of sadness, you are not adrift.” Those words are so beautiful to me because they express in one sentence what I have been feeling in paragraphs and chapters. I repeat them to myself throughout the day. And I believe with all my heart there is sunshine above the rain.
Michelle, this is so beautiful… the realness you have, the lack of pretense about anything, just sharing from your heart. I am incredibly challenged… I’ve been thinking about you so so much the past few weeks and praying… ♥
thinking of you once again… reliving it with you…
oh Michelle. this is so…touching. and, such raw beauty…how you, who have been given ashes are turning it into something beautiful..in His time.
even tho’ i have not walked this road you speak of being on, i feel with you, for you in this time…and the way you write of struggling and the emotions you speak of in your journey are so very easy to relate to.
words fail me…
so, i will keep praying.
♥~r
You continue to be in my thoughts & prayers. Thank you for sharing the journey you have been experiencing.Today I was thinking back over the past month & the only picture that came to mind for me was the color gray. I am longing for energy to enjoy the sunshine. Yet I have so much to be thankful for while you mourn, my baby is okay[ as far as I know]. Thank you for showing me what I am blessed with! Mariann
Thank you for sharing. I am so grateful that God has been ‘real’ to you. May you continue to feel His peace…
Michelle, I am so glad you can feel at peace and have felt God’s presence and love. I don’t know if I should say this or not, because I am not trying to minimize your loss in any way, but when I got pregnant with Emily, I prayed every day that if it wasn’t God’s will for her to live, He would take the baby in the first weeks. I would’ve been devastated even in those first few weeks of course, but I could tell a definite difference in my attachment by the time the first trimester was over. I will keep praying for you, that you can continue to feel God in all of this. (((Hugs!)))
I am so glad that you found the words. And even more thankful that this experience has been a gentle one for you. What a blessing you have had in being surrounded by supportive friends & family!
You write about your journey so well…and so beautifully. Your trust in God shines through your pain and struggle.
I’m really glad you shared.
Continue to pray for you, Michelle! May God give you the desires of your heart =)
@sewhappymomma –
I know you are grateful, even when you can’t feel it for the waves of nausea. Remember that when you are in that first trimester, what you FEEL is not what you really believe and cut yourself some slack. I wish I could make supper for you tonight. It does not matter how grateful you are, it is still horrible to feel so incredibly sick. Come remind me that I do believe in gratefulness underneath the vomiting the next time I’m pregnant. Sending you big, big hugs.
@richlyblest –
And I understand that all the better for the story you had before Emily. Your story is one of the ones that has helped me through this so much. I will forever be grateful that you shared that part of your life with us.
@itsayoderworld –
I know. It is a priceless gift.
This post brought back a flood of the feelings and emotions I had with my miscarriage. Your unwavering faith is beautiful and really challenging. Thank you for having the courage to share your heart!
Beautiful, Michelle. So sorry you’re going through this and so glad that God has been close to you. That you can Feel Him there! Hugs and prayers.
Love ya, girl!! I’m so proud of you for putting a voice to your feelings.. you do it so eloquently!! hugs and prayers!
beautiful, my friend……. i am so sorry…
Hugs to you Michelle. You are a brave yet talented person for writing your raw feelings down like this. So many will be blessed and comforted by the words. Some will know that what they are feeling or have felt by a miscarriage is normal and that they aren’t alone. God is our strength and he will use your wonderful words to comfort others and on “sad” days when you remember they will comfort you too. As someone once told me “Your journey has just begone and won’t stop till you take your last breath. Until then journal your feelings and emotions so others can learn, hope, grieve, laugh, cry along with you, now is not the time to be silent that will come soon enough!” I will continue to pray for you and your family!
@TaxiMom1999 –
Thank you. Your words are very kind!
I’m glad you found words and wrote them down. Thank you for sharing so eloquently.
Saying a prayer for you and thankful you’re surrounded by friends and family who bless you so. Those babies due near the time your were will be precious to watch. At least for me, my little nephews may have brought tears, but also smiles because they are a happy reminder. We named our little one because even though we never met him/her they still are a part of who our family is. This year was the first, I didn’t wake up thinking we would of had a birthday today. May you and your family continue to feel Gods grace daily on this journey.
Michelle, I’m so sorry! You have no idea how reading this has helped me. I am one of those who would do anything to just know I had conceived and been able to carry an actual baby and not just very empty dreams. Oh.the.grief!!!! Unbearable,wrenching,cold. Being able to know you actually had something to grieve over is ‘better'(not better) than going through this deep blinding grief and having absolutely nothing. I just wanna thank you for your openness and willingness to share. Praying that you will feel God’s strong arms of love around you, holding you up!! In deep grief, Ellen
Thanks for writing this story, Michelle. I’m in awe at the grace of God through all of this, and I think you’re doing a good job of giving Him glory in this hard, hard time. {hugs}
Many hugs and prayers to you !!!!!
Michelle, I hope you get to plant a flower or tree very, very soon.
Hugs and prayers for you!! I didn’t realize all this happened! 🙁 The world of babyhood, pregnancy, loss and the inability to conceive baffles me…I’m glad it’s not for me to understand. But still we wonder Why?
Thank you for sharing…your journey is sure to help someone else, too! Blessings~
Been thinking about you alot these past few weeks! Thanks for your openness in sharing your story. It helps those of us who haven’t been through a loss like that to be compassionate to those who are hurting/grieving. Praying for you!
I have thought of you so much the last few weeks, just reliving all those emotions and looking back and being able to see God’s hand more clearly in my experience. I still pray for you! {{Hugs}}
@cupajoy –
Ellen, your story breaks my heart. Empty dreams. Deep blinding grief. I so get that. I know that primary infertility is a pain way deeper than I ever experienced, but I do know that pain of not being able to conceive. In retrospect, a year and a half doesn’t look so long, but at the time it felt like an eternity. That’s why I say, I don’t understand grief and why it hits different people so differently. From the first month of that experience, I was struggling so hard. And I do know what you mean about it being a deeper grief. It feels as though your grief is not valid, especially not to other people. There are the horrible, horrible questions that creep into your mind … like would I not make a good mom? Is there something wrong with me? And then there is the horrible emotional roller coaster that never allows you to have closure. I am sad about this; but it’s a set time and we can move on. With infertility, you spend half your month hoping and half of it trying to regroup from the devastation. It’s harder to talk about, b/c unlike miscarriage, relatively few people experience it. Plus, it just feels so personal. I’m just so sorry you are going through this pain. Please feel free to private message me anytime you want to. I don’t have answers but I will be so happy to listen. Because I care. Sending you big {{{hugs}}}.
I hadn\t been on xanga too much lately so I wasn’t aware of this sadness in your life. My heart is broken for your loss…and for the journey you are on.
two of my girlfriends lost their children in the same year…one very close to its due date and one right at 4 months. seeing the devestation of their loss and trying to be there through it all…it was something that God had to be part of, that his hand had to strengthen them in, cause waht i had to offer as a human was so limited.
thank you for being open…and sharing your journey with us. may the Lord continue to use you and your story to make a difference as you continue on your journey, and se that he IS there along the way
Something leads me to believe that writing this post had to have been theraputic for you. Or at least I hope so!
Pain is such a process, and there are no short cuts. Praying for you, Michelle!
Your transparency is beautiful. Thank you for sharing with us.
You have been on my mind so much these days. I thought of you yesterday when I was going to my midwife visit. I’m thankful with you for the grace. Prayers…
beautiful rawness and emotions. i have thought of you so much even tho’ i have done a horrible job of letting you know…..sigh.
hugs for those days when everyone else has moved on and you still wonder and miss and imagine….
What a beautiful and well written post. Thank you for sharing your heart with us.
God will get you through this. =)
I don’t think we have met before; I came here to visit from another post. My heart hurts with yours. We experienced a precious daughter going to Heaven before we met her. I want to say I care very much how you feel even though I do not know you. I appreciate your openness so very much. As you come to my mind, I will pray for you. I pray for His Grace to fill your days. ~Three Joys
Michelle,as I read this tears were flowing down my cheeks. You are feeling so many of the same emotions I felt 2 half years ago when I lost our baby at about 8weeks into my pregnancy. I had want that baby so much .grief was almost more then I could bare sometimes,Yet God was so close to me during that time.2years ago in January was my due date with the baby we lost and this January God blessed us with a newborn baby boy thru adoption. I can just feel God expressing his love for me thru this precious baby!! I’m praying for you and please let yourself grieve it is so healing .Thanks for sharing your journey!!!!God is faithful