I don’t really know where to start as I put my thoughts to the keyboard once again. I still feel kind of spacy, not quite with it, preparing for one life, a life of pregnant bliss, and then 2 seconds later that dream so immediately eradicated from the realm of possibility, but my mind hasn’t quite caught up with what has happened; it has instead been taking its dandy ole’ time in getting the cliff notes version with what has been going on with my body. So excuse me if this is a bit random, but lately it feels like I’ve just stepped off of the Magnum XL where I’ve been ripped to shreds, my hormones thrown all over, slapping every walking, talking human being (especially the men) upside the head, and my heart has fallen out of my chest and plopped itself down in front of all of humanity, a throbbing, pumping, pulsating, angry, weepy heart. Yup, that’s about how the past few weeks have felt.
I’ve contemplated different thoughts to write about including many surfacy, fluffy ideas: a post on Christmas gifts, a recap post on the month of December, a more serious post on sex, (don’t worry I’ll get to that one later) all ideas meant to detract from the ache of what’s been going on in my heart and mind. Some days have been difficult. Some have been joyful, some painful and many days, growth defining moments. The days have had me in tears one moment and laughter the next, praising God in the morning and cursing life in the evening. They have been emotional, for sure, to say the least.
They have been my life.
I miscarried 5 weeks ago today. I’ve had a hard time coming to grip with the fact that something so unbelievably common can hurt so deeply. I’m now starting to emerge from this murky thing, a cloudiness that I can’t even really explain, a fog of indifference, agony, and sometimes guilt over being okay in many moments. What a twisty, turvy, icky thing it is to miscarry a child. This is admittedly my first encounter with this kind of experience, and I blamed my age. I blamed my husband’s eating habits. I blamed myself for not taking my prenatal vitamins religiously. I blamed God. And then one day I just ran out of blame.
To add to the weight of it all we discovered two days after I officially lost the baby that my former mother in law has breast cancer. I somehow rationalized that my loss was incredibly insignificant in light of what she and her husband were going through. I had never met the baby. He or she had probably died around 8 weeks, and so I coped by shoving my personal issue into a little box, threw it into a “do not disturb” corner of my mind, and didn’t deal with it emotionally but the physical onslaught was only just beginning.
It continued physically – on and on and on because that’s what you do when you miscarry. It was so prolonged because I was told that a D&C had to be an absolute last resort due to my history with classical C-sections. It continued because I looked my doctor, square in the eyes, with a steely fierceness that I am programmed to show in times of distress, and bluntly informed him that I would be “just fine.”
I got into my “just fine” mode and actually functioned quite well there for about 2 weeks and then I just didn’t function very well in it anymore. The first two weeks I was able to trick myself into believing I was having a prolonged menstrual period. I took advantage of the pros of NOT being pregnant and tried to focus on those aspects. I enjoyed being near my husband again. I enjoyed being able to kiss him without being repulsed due to pregnancy hormones. I enjoyed eating food again. I enjoyed cooking, and I enjoyed sleeping and not dealing with weird pregnancy dreams. And then one night, around midnight, I awoke with a start, hot tears streaming down my face, as I realized I had just dreamt of giving birth and in my arms I had been holding a bloodied, dead baby that had just come out of me and then I realized that I hadn’t really dealt with any of it. Not that I had the remotest idea of how to deal with the reality of it all, but I knew I wasn’t exactly passing Jessica reality 101 very well. I entered that third week with the stark realization that I had lost my baby, and I hated it.
I started praying. I started waking in the morning 30 minutes before my family did and beseeching God with questions. I read the books, I reached out to others, I begged God to please stop the bleeding. Through it all, my moaning, tears, and anger, I heard nothing. The bleeding continued, the ache remained, and God did not answer my whys.
Even yet I struggle with feelings of getting over it; IT not being the worst thing in the world, especially compared to other events I’ve been through in life, and more especially in the light of what others around the world walk through on a daily basis. I’ve made peace with the circumstances, somewhat, in my own twisted, normal or irrational kind of way. I have accepted that the baby probably had something wrong with him or her and my prayer all along was, “Dear Lord, please not another Luke.” I love my Luke fiercely and I would fight tooth and nail for any child, but the reality of raising a Luke is very different from the reality of a healthy, “normal” child. I’m at peace with this baby being in Heaven if that is how the pregnancy would have played out and there’s guilt in that as well. I was able to pre -grieve quite a bit, never feeling like the pregnancy was quite like any of the others, feeling just a little too energetic, a little too normal. There is still a lot of rationalizing I do about why it all happened when it all felt so right in the moment.
Maybe my mother in law will need me
Maybe I need to focus on my classes that have started.
Maybe I need to focus on the book
Maybe I just need to BE still for a bit
Maybe I need to get a new perspective
Maybe I need to actually come back to the core of what I believe. Bad things happen. We live in a fallen world. Jesus is sharing my pain, agonizing with my tears, and God understands completely what it feels like to watch a child die. I am blessed, regardless of this circumstance, but it still hurts, it still has become a part of who I am and how I react, and it has transformed me into someone better, more pure, more raw, more authentic; for that I am grateful.
Just keep livin!!