Grieving for a Stranger

I am the mother of three beautiful baby girls. They have brought me more joy than I could have ever imagined possible. That joy is what gets me through the day when sheer exhaustion leads to tears. They are truly the reason I get up and keep going each and every day. When I discovered I was pregnant for the fourth time, I was overwhelmed. All at once I felt happy, scared, confused, excited, and wishful.
My husband and I had always wanted a son. He wanted a son to be able to throw a football with in the back yard. A boy to carry on his family name so that it would not end with him. I had long dreamed of having mommy’s little boy. Since my first pregnancy I have held onto little boys nursery items, hoping that one day I could put them to good use.
Getting pregnant again was a challenge for me. After my last daughter was born doctors discovered abnormal cells in my cervix during my annual check up. They were biopsied and sent to the lab. Thankfully, they were described as being in the very early stages of cancerous. I remember that phone call like it was yesterday. They told me not be alarmed, that they had discovered it extremely early and that they could remove all of the cells. Everything was going to be okay. I went to the office alone so that they could perform a leep procedure. It was painful and uncomfortable. My husband had wanted to come with me, but I chose to go by myself. I’m not someone who likes to be exposed as weak in front of those that I love. I like to be seen as strong. Sometimes I have to pretend to be stronger than I really am. The procedure had butchered my cervix and caused my Endometriosis to be more severe than ever before. Severe Endometriosis causes infertility in 30% to 50% of women diagnosed with it. For the remaining 50% to 70% getting pregnant is extremely difficult. Discovering the fact that I was pregnant, despite the odds, filled me with emotion. However, I was terrified of the increased possibility that I may suffer a miscarriage . A friend of mine suffered a miscarriage twenty weeks into her last pregnancy. She became withdrawn and sank into a deep depression. I worried about how I would cope with the physical and emotional pain of such a complicated loss.
Due to my superstitious nature, I avoided telling anyone about the pregnancy. I let my husband know that I thought I may be pregnant, but told him that I wasn’t positive. When in fact I was positive, the test I had taken earlier that day had confirmed my suspicions. I tried to avoid thinking about things like names that we might choose for our new baby but was unsuccessful.
Eventually, I became optimistic about the little life growing inside of me. I had begun to feel as if everything was going to be okay. A few days later I woke up feeling drastically different and knew things were not okay. Most of my pregnancy symptoms had been mild. The most acute being tender breasts had seemingly disappeared overnight. I was experiencing mild bleeding, but felt no physical pain. I knew mild bleeding during early pregnancy is fairly common, and not necessarily a sign of ominous things to come. This was different, I could feel it, though I couldn't explain it. I knew without a doubt, I was having a miscarriage. I felt frightened and overwhelmed by a sorrowful sadness from somewhere deep inside. I had no idea what would happen next. My husband had been working many long hours, and once again was away at work. I made the decision not to call him so that he wouldn't worry. He still didn’t even know for sure that I was pregnant.
Instead, I lay on my bed and cried for our unborn child. After gathering myself together I went online to research the situation. Frantically clicking from one website to the next, I read hundreds of articles and medical journal entries with information regarding miscarriages. While traversing through the mountains of information I had collected, I stumbled across the fact that it's possible for the process of miscarrying to take up to four weeks.
Considering what I had just learned, I phoned one of the nurses working at my doctors office. She told me to relax, and then asked me if I had taken a pregnancy test. Fearful of what she might think of me, being twenty-five years old and pregnant with my 4th child, I lied and said, "No." I hate being judged, but realize that I am on a daily basis. Oftentimes these judgments are handed down by people who don't know even know me. There is one person who I can count on to offer love and support and that is my aunt. She is someone who pushes all judgments aside, choosing instead to lovingly tell me to keep my head up, keep moving forward and to pray. Just as I had begun to get lost in the warm comforting memories of my aunt, the nurse began to speak. She informed me that I needed to monitor the bleeding and if it remained heavy and consistent for longer than a week I should call her back.
The time had come for me to tell my husband that my worst fear, my nightmare, had in fact become my reality. He didn’t say very much. The sadness in his eyes said it all. I felt horrible that my body failed to take care of something so important to him, to us. Even though I have given him three beautiful daughters, the thought of losing what could have been our only son, was unbearable. That is one thought that the passing of time has been unable to dull. It is still as sharp as it was that very day.
A week passed and still the bleeding hadn’t subsided. I passed clot after clot, my body cramping in ways that I didn’t know my body could. The bleeding was consistent and unbelievably heavy. It was time to call my doctor back. I was scared that something was going terribly wrong. When I spoke with him, he expressed his sympathies and explained that I was most certainly having a miscarriage. He explained that miscarriages were extremely common. Then he informed me that 20% of pregnancies do not go to term but instead end in miscarriage, most before 12 weeks. Unfortunately, he said there was little that could be done other than to let nature run its course. He advised me to take Tylenol and Advil for the pain. I was grateful, for I had begun to feel horrible agonizing pains from suffering the miscarriage.
The physical pain had begun to subside but the shade of depression that loomed over me slowly began to lower itself, eventually covering me in it's entirety. I found myself robotically taking care of life's basic necessities and of my daughters. As soon as I could steal away to be alone , I did. I slept on and off the next few days. I didn't want to get up, fearful that the pain might return or that I might have to face the world while experiencing such a private loss. The only people who knew about my loss were my husband and my aunt. I couldn’t bear the thought of disclosing this information to the rest of the world. I didn’t want to switch on my computer only to be reminded of my loss because of all the pregnancy, parenting, and baby name websites that I had wistfully saved on my browser. Though I wished that they could, I knew that my blankets couldn't hide me forever.
The following week I informed everyone concerned that I had an appointment with my OBGYN to discuss options for my endometriosis. In reality, it was an appointment in which I would undergo an ultrasound to ensure I had passed everything. I remember my nurse saying that she had “good news” and that I would not need an additional procedure. I had passed my miscarriage completely. In the waiting room, there was a women cradling her newborn baby boy. My heart broke into what felt like a million pieces and tears began falling down my face. I rushed to the bathroom wanting to hide my sadness from a world seemingly filled with joy. A part of me deep down inside wanted to yell at her because she had what I was supposed to. Of course none of this was her fault. It wasn’t any ones fault. I was just angry and sad with no one who I felt could truly understand the pain I felt.
Stumbling through the next few days in a fog, my body going through the motions of daily life while I dealt with feelings of such loss. I had lost a daughter or a son. Along with my baby I had lost all of my hope, optimism and excitement for the world around me. The dream of having more children had just been viciously ripped from me. My dream of giving birth to a baby boy was no longer within my grasp. I finally thought I had dealt with it in my own way. My husband kept asking me if I was really okay. I kept just telling him I was fine. Though I was devastated inside. I felt like there was an empty hole in my heart destroying me one day at a time. One night while taking a bath, I finally just broke down. I cried harder than I have ever cried. It felt like the world was crashing down around me. I didn’t think I was going to be able to stop. It was an uncontrollable, child-like sob. As horrible as it sounds I had such a strong feeling of being a worthless person, incapable of doing anything right. Even though I have done things right. I have three amazing daughters that prove it. No one realizes how losing a baby, even early on, can change you so drastically.
Since I hadn’t told friends or family about the pregnancy or miscarriage, I avoided them for fear that I might break down in front of them without an explanation as to why. I moped around the house and felt unable to do anything – washing my hair felt like an insurmountable task. I found myself sinking into the depths of despair. I revisited the websites I had researched and read stories from women who’d had two, three or more miscarriages and wondered how on earth they coped. I’m still not sure how they managed to survive such loss.
My loss is my own. Everyone is different. My husband dealt with the loss in his own way. He decided to name the baby Shane, because it can be either a boys or a girls name. He said he knows we will see our baby again one day.
The silver lining is the fact that I am still the mother of four beautiful children. Though I haven't yet been able to meet one of them, I someday will. I dealt with the loss in my way and got a puppy. She’s absolutely perfect, and appropriately named Angel. She gives my family love and affection and is beautiful. She stayed by my side during the dark days which I sometimes still have. There are times when we are out and about that people will ask us if we are going to try for a boy, or if we're going to have another child because you guys definitely need a son. When that happens it takes everything I have to push back the tears. I don't always succeed. At times I find myself tearing up when I see another baby, or when a friend of mine announces they are expecting. I feel joy for them, while simultaneously my heart swells with sadness. I am not sure that those feelings will ever completely subside but I am okay with that. I think that it means I'm human, and that I love my children from their very start. Some days I wonder what that child may have been like. There are times when I just feel sad. It's those times that I find myself asking God, “WHY”? Then, I think about how truly blessed I am because of the wonderful family He has given me. I am truly blessed and appreciate everything I have gone through. The experiences I have been given have shaped me into a stronger and more compassionate person.
I know that humans are amazingly adaptable beings. I know that we can cope with whatever life throws in our path. We all have our own way of doing it, but we make it through. I will always remember that in the end, this too shall pass.