Reflections on grief

This week was my spring break. I had the opportunity for a playdate with a friend who lost their daughter, Erin, at 19 weeks on the day after Christmas. Visiting with my friend was interesting and it made me really think about how I have grieved these last six months since losing Taylor.

Taylor had been dead for weeks when we had the ultrasound; a missed miscarriage. We suspected it was a genetic problem, though it was never confirmed, and the chances of it happening again were the same chances of any miscarriage. We never got to know the sex of the baby for sure, we never got any final pictures, prints, or things to prove our baby existed. All we have is the healthy ultrasound picture from 11 weeks.

My friend, Christy, had a very different experience losing her baby than I did. I found this out when she pulled out all of Erin's things to show me this last week. Christy had a uterine infection that caused premature labor and though they tried to stop it, they couldn't. Erin was alive, with a strong heartbeat and active, up until just a few minutes before she was born. She was perfect in every way and Christy showed me all the pictures of her and how perfectly formed she had been. I got to see the little gown and hat, the blanket and stuffed lamb, even the urn with her ashes.

Seeing the differences in our losses has made me realize how different we grieve for our losses. I worry about a genetic "fluke" happening again while my friend feels her body failed her. While I think about Taylor each day, I don't worry that I am "forgetting" or that my desire for another baby is to replace the baby I've lost. I can openly talk about Taylor and usually not tear up. I've come so far in the grief that I can turn around and look back, see the terrible journey I've been on.

Miscarriage is a different kind of loss. You mourn not only the loss of life, but the loss of what could have been. You grieve for the chance of life that is lost. But it is never over I've also come to believe. Yes, the due date is past, I can no longer associate myself with pregnant women and think Ishould be X weeks along now. This journey with grief will never end. It is getting easier, but things will never return to the old "normal". My friendships have changed, some growing stronger, some more distanced, and I can't help but think of my friends who are expecting and think that everytime I look at their child, I will think that mine should be close to that same age too.

The grief is getting easier to handle, it isn't all consuming anymore, but it is something that is there each day and hits you at the strangest moments. I am a mother of three, two boys and one angel.