Four years ago, my life changed. My surprise of a pregnancy taught me the truest form of hope…and my miscarriage taught me what it felt like to feel hopeless.
There were good days and bad days. I told myself that God knew best and that we would try again when we had gotten used to being married. I said the timing wasn’t ideal. We had a few other places to go and things to see. And when our relationship ended, I even tried to convince myself that I had “dodged a bullet.”
Truth is…I loved my baby. With everything in me. From the moment I knew someone was growing inside of me. I’ve never felt more special, loving, sensitive, protective, hopeful, favored, useful, purposeful, or beautiful than I did while I carried my child.
I miscarried in the first trimester. It wasn’t an easy loss physically, which distracted me from the emotional consequences. I was afraid of staying overnight in the hospital and things happened so fast that I barely remember all of the scans and needle pricks now.
I just remember hearing them say, “There is nothing that we can do to reverse this, but we will make sure that you are as comfortable as possible.” Tuh.
Friends and family tried to comfort me and most of them said all of the WRONG things with the best of intentions. There were the comparisons to people who’d carried pregnancies for longer and the people who seem to believe that one should view a miscarriage as a celebration of the ability to conceive. There were the people who didn’t know what to say so they said nothing at all, which I actually understood. Perhaps, the most hurtful were the people who believed that you had to birth a child to be a mother…they made sure to remind me that I was not a mom and that I would get a shot at it someday.
Miscarriage is such a taboo topic. Many people don’t know how to deal with it although so many women and couples experience it. Each person’s experience with it is different and the process is never ending.
Today, I haven’t shed a tear. I feel stronger than I ever have regarding the loss of my baby. I also feel more love for him or her than I ever have. I used to try to block out the experience, but bottling it up only made me angry. It hurt more. Peace came in the form of acknowledgment and remembrance.
More than anything else, I’m so thankful that God granted me the opportunity to be a vessel of life if only for a little while. I’m thankful for the flood of emotions that I felt. I’m thankful to feel in my heart, the sweet presence of the angel that I once carried in my womb.
If love could have saved my baby, it would have lived forever.