Time passes differently for me these days. Everyday is related to what I was doing a year ago, how old Taylor would be now, and how pregnant my friends are.
One year ago today I took a home pregnancy test and my life was to be forever changed, I just didn't know how much. I remember looking at the positive test and being in shock. I was surprised, angry, and after calming down a bit, a little happy. I had always wanted another baby, but had planned to get pregnant in June of 2009, not 2008! I was angry that things hadn't gone according to my plan and was worried about what I would do with my toddler still in diapers and the crib. I remember feeling those things for quite a while. Fast forward to now. I was so looking forward to having good news to share, but I'm sitting here experiencing cramps and proof that this last cycle of trying didn't work.
Colten has been at Bible school all this week at church. They had a dinner last night for all the kids and families. It was interesting to watch the other parents with babies close to the age Taylor would have been. It was interesting to think about how I would have been dealing with a 3 month old, in addition to my 2 year old and 6 year old last night.
Also at dinner were friends who got pregnant right after my miscarriage and are due any day now. It is sad to think that almost 9 months has passed since then. If someone had told me a year ago how that pregnancy would end and how I would spend my spring and summer having trouble trying to get pregnant, I wouldn't have believed a word they said. Many other friends got pregnant when I started trying for another pregnancy, and they are now moving on to their second trimester and finding out if they are having a boy or girl. It is so hard to talk with them and not think I would be experiencing that if only it had worked then.
I'm losing hope and finding it difficult to even want to keep trying. After 6 failed cycles, I'm just not sure if I want to keep trying. It is too painful everytime my body lets me know it's failed. Sorry to be such a downer, but I just can't keep thinking it will finally work when it isn't.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Friday, June 19, 2009
How long is enough?
Yesterday was my last day of school. Everyone keep asking me if I was happy my school year was over. I gave an honest response and said I was, it was a rough year, from October on it was tough. Many people would take that comment as it was rough because of the students I had, but many others would pause and remember what happened in October, my miscarriage. Though people wouldn't say anything, they would give me a look like shouldn't you be over that by now?
There's some things I just need to get out. It wasn't just yesterday's looks, but also other things that have made me ask how long is long enough to grieve? There is no definite answer, but I'll tell you 8 months later, I'm still grieving.
Miscarriage is one of the least talked about things in our society today. Statistics show that around 25% of all pregnancies end in a miscarriage, that's a lot! But so many people hide their miscarriage and grief and as a society we are less than sympathetic to mothers who have experienced a miscarriage. Phrases such as It was meant to be, You'll have other children, and worse At least it happened early don't help a mother grieve at all, it hurts them! And before you think that these things were told to me by people not close to me, think again. Parents and relatives were the ones who told me these things most. Granted, they were from a different generation, one when miscarrying mothers were told to get pregnant quick and forget their dead baby; at time when miscarrying was often something secretive and shameful.
Tony has been wonderful and supportive these lone 8 months, but even he wonders when will I be done being sad. He has been sad at times too, but he looks at me and just wants me to be happy again with him. One of our pastors told him that put it all into perspective for him. If Colten or Carson had been killed in an accident, how long would you be sad? It made Tony realize that I am still grieving our child, just as I would be grieving if one of my other children had died. Parents of older children who die have pictures of those children and often the place of burial to visit and grieve. Parents of miscarriages have ultrasound pictures if they are lucky.
So before you judge me and wonder why is she writing yet AGAIN about grief? Why can't she just get over it! Think that each time I write about miscarriage, I am remembering Taylor. It doesn't matter if you were pregnant for 5 weeks or 5 months, you grieve the loss of that life, and will always think about how things might have been different. Know also that while I am remembering Taylor, I am also doing well. I'm enjoying my boys and life and look forward to this summer. I once described my grief as a cliff I was climbing and would often lose my grip and fall back. I can now see the top and it is within reach. It has just taken me 8 long months to get there.
There's some things I just need to get out. It wasn't just yesterday's looks, but also other things that have made me ask how long is long enough to grieve? There is no definite answer, but I'll tell you 8 months later, I'm still grieving.
Miscarriage is one of the least talked about things in our society today. Statistics show that around 25% of all pregnancies end in a miscarriage, that's a lot! But so many people hide their miscarriage and grief and as a society we are less than sympathetic to mothers who have experienced a miscarriage. Phrases such as It was meant to be, You'll have other children, and worse At least it happened early don't help a mother grieve at all, it hurts them! And before you think that these things were told to me by people not close to me, think again. Parents and relatives were the ones who told me these things most. Granted, they were from a different generation, one when miscarrying mothers were told to get pregnant quick and forget their dead baby; at time when miscarrying was often something secretive and shameful.
Tony has been wonderful and supportive these lone 8 months, but even he wonders when will I be done being sad. He has been sad at times too, but he looks at me and just wants me to be happy again with him. One of our pastors told him that put it all into perspective for him. If Colten or Carson had been killed in an accident, how long would you be sad? It made Tony realize that I am still grieving our child, just as I would be grieving if one of my other children had died. Parents of older children who die have pictures of those children and often the place of burial to visit and grieve. Parents of miscarriages have ultrasound pictures if they are lucky.
So before you judge me and wonder why is she writing yet AGAIN about grief? Why can't she just get over it! Think that each time I write about miscarriage, I am remembering Taylor. It doesn't matter if you were pregnant for 5 weeks or 5 months, you grieve the loss of that life, and will always think about how things might have been different. Know also that while I am remembering Taylor, I am also doing well. I'm enjoying my boys and life and look forward to this summer. I once described my grief as a cliff I was climbing and would often lose my grip and fall back. I can now see the top and it is within reach. It has just taken me 8 long months to get there.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Finding Hope
Whenever anyone experiences loss, there is usually anger and frustration involved. I've been frustrated and angry at so many things these last few weeks: my body, new babies and newly pregnant friends, even God. I know it is a normal part of the grieving process, but I don't like the ME I am when I'm full of anger. So I'm trying to find hope, in everything.
Hope is "the feeling that what is wanted can be had". I've been praying for many months to get pregnant, to be happy, to be a good friend and mom, but it hasn't happened. I don't know if it is just all part of God's timing, or my own snarky pesimistic nature, but I haven't been happy. So last week I stopped praying for the baby I want, and instead prayed for hope. Each and every time I feel the familiar anger well up at the new baby at church, or another friend who is pregnant, I pray that God gives me hope. For now it is working. I can't say I'm happy, but I'm on my way there.
Hope is "the feeling that what is wanted can be had". I've been praying for many months to get pregnant, to be happy, to be a good friend and mom, but it hasn't happened. I don't know if it is just all part of God's timing, or my own snarky pesimistic nature, but I haven't been happy. So last week I stopped praying for the baby I want, and instead prayed for hope. Each and every time I feel the familiar anger well up at the new baby at church, or another friend who is pregnant, I pray that God gives me hope. For now it is working. I can't say I'm happy, but I'm on my way there.
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