A Lot On My Mind

It's 1:30 in the morning and I absolutely cannot sleep.  I've tried laying down twice, but all I can do is toss and turn and so I wake up John...who has to get up in 3.5 hours for work, so I thought I would be a nice wife and let him sleep. (Please don't sue for the MASSIVE run-on sentence!)

My friend Beth Ann lent me a few books on miscarriage today when I took her the afghan she ordered.  I finished one tonight, "A Silent Love" by Adrienne Ryan.  If any of you have had a miscarriage, or know someone who has had one, please read this book.  It brought me to tears more times than I can count, but it was so beautiful to hear other mother's telling there story.  The book brings up a very good, very sad point...it is not fair to those of us going through it on so many different levels.  The most obvious reason is that we are losing our child.  But, second, it is so VERY upsetting that miscarriage is still a taboo subject for discussion.  

Throughout the miscarriages we've been through...no one will talk about it.  When I am upset or hurt, I want to talk...I want to get my problems off my chest.  And yet, when it comes to that subject, no one seems to listen.  We are talking about death, pure and simple.  If it is an adult family member who passes on, people will listen to you cry and console you all day long, but if it is a baby within your body that you lose, somehow that doesn't get the same acknowledgement.

The book raised another good point.  When you lose a family member, at least you have those memories to look back on.  You will always remember their laugh and smile...the holidays, the parties....time you spent with them.  And yet, with a miscarriage, we have none of those memories.  We have nothing to draw on except the hopes and dreams we had placed on that tiny person.  It is so hard to spend so much time fantasizing about what your baby will look like, how it will act, what he/she will grow up to be....and then to have all those dreams taken away from you in an instant.  You're only left with a "what might've been".  No pictures, no nothing....only an aching void that feels like it will never be filled.

This miscarriage has been so very different from the others.  At first, it was easier.  I was amazed at how well I was holding myself together.  I focused 100% of my attention on Charlee and did not dwell on our loss like I did before.  She kept me distracted, and so I didn't really think about the baby we lost.  And then, suddenly, two weeks ago, it was like the ceiling came crashing down on me.  I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep...and when I DID finally get to sleep all I had were nightmares.  Very vivid nightmares of losing Charlee, so real that I would wake up crying or screaming and have to run to her room to check on her...just to reassure myself that she was there, breathing and safe.  I was a wreck...every little noise felt like a threat...someone lurking in the shadows, waiting to take my baby girl away from me.  I honestly thought I was going crazy.

Somehow, over the past week, I've started to feel better.  I know that life has to go on.  I can't let myself freak over every little thing.  This has definitely made me even more protective over Charlee, but I realize that she is here, and I will keep her safe as much as I possibly can.  We hope to have another baby soon, but if it doesn't happen, we have our miracle baby and she is here and she is OURS.  No matter what happens, I will have that beautiful little face looking up at me.  She loves me unconditionally and if she is our only baby, then that means that's just that much more love and attention we can give to her.