I'm new to this. To blogging, to writing about my feelings, to sharing things with an unknown number of people. If you know me, you know I'm shy. I have a select group of friends who REALLY know me. And even they know that sometimes I retreat inside my shell. I'm new to being a part of the miscarriage/pregnancy loss club. I hate it. I hate it with a passion. I hate being a part of a club that I never even really knew existed. It's a club with a lot of wonderfully kind and compassionate and honest members but I still don't want to be a part of it. I never dreamed I would be a part of it. Yet here I am, it's newest member; kicking and screaming.
We lost our precious baby on September 13, 2010. One week tomorrow. I was exactly 13 weeks pregnant. It was a Monday. It was 2pm. There was no heartbeat. Life will never be the same. I haven't yet been able to go more than an hour without crying, regardless of where I am; home, restaurant, church, doesn't matter. There's never a shortage of tears. There's never a shortage of sadness. I loved that baby, I love that baby. I would have easily and without question given my life so that my baby could live. If only I'd had the option.
Right now, I'm feeling disgust. Disgusted with myself for having felt so unabashedly happy to be pregnant. Disgusted that I could be so naive and selfish as to think that I was immune to devastation. Disgusted with my body for not being able to keep my baby alive. Disgusted with my body for not knowing my baby had died...how could I have been violently ill with morning sickness for 4 weeks after my baby died!? Disgusted with my doctor for not giving me an ultrasound at 10 weeks when they didn't find a heartbeat on the doppler. Disgusted that I had to carry my dead baby for 4 and a half weeks without knowing it. Disgusted that I had to go through the pains of labor to deliver my lifeless baby and then had to take her remains to the lab, not the grave. Disgusted that right now my husband is watching football instead of crying about our baby like I am. Disgusted that everyone can go on to live normal lives when my baby is dead.
And yet, despite all the agony, the heartache, the anger, the disgust... I am also so thankful. Thankful that I was given the gift of creating and carrying life, even if for a short while. Thankful to discover that I can love so profoundly. Thankful to be a mother, even if it is to an angel baby, and to know that motherhood is every bit as wonderful as I imagined. Thankful that I have such an incredibly strong, loving and supportive husband (who also would have been an amazing daddy). Thankful that I have been blessed with so many loving and caring friends and family who have said and done 'all the right things'. Despite all of my pain, despite suffering an unimaginable loss...I know I am still fortunate.