November 26, 2012
the next one's the best one.
I was about eight weeks pregnant when we had our first appointment with our midwife. October 4. The month leading up to that point had been a roller coaster of emotions. We are a little surprised by the news, but mostly just excited. It was an overwhelming feeling. I didn't know that the minute you find out you're pregnant, you become a mother. Your life changes instantly, and every decision you make is with a lens on what is beneficial for that baby. Even though it's just a glimmer of a person (or the size of a blueberry, in our case), you start making plans. You tell family and a few close friends. And it's all just so exciting and terrifying at the same time.
But at our first appointment, there was no heartbeat. One week later, it was confirmed that I had miscarried.
After we got the news, I cried for days. For the first time in my life, I couldn't talk about what had happened. How could I possibly explain how I felt? Disappointment doesn't even begin to cover it. To me, it was a huge loss. My heart was broken. I also felt silly for being so upset. After all, I hadn't actually met our baby. I hadn't felt it kick or heard it cry. When I wasn't sad I was angry. Why did I know so many people who could have babies without any trouble at all, yet I couldn't even have one? It wasn't fair. But unfortunately, it doesn't work that way. Sometimes things don't make sense.
Then, there's the physical part of miscarriage. You see, they break your heart, and then they punch you in the face afterwards. I won't go into the details here. I learned that a "failed pregnancy" is more than just an emotional trauma. It's a physical one, too.
Jason was amazing through it all. I've never needed someone so much in my entire life. He grieved through the process right alongside me. I have no doubt that we can handle being parents. If there's a silver lining, it's that we know exactly what we want now.
When something didn't work out, Jason's dad used to say, "Well. The next one's the best one." I think it was usually applied to purchases of houses or cars, but I like to think he would have said it about this, too. I'm choosing to believe he's right.
Today, although I'm doing pretty well, I feel changed by what happened. I can't describe how, exactly, but in subtle ways, I'm different than I was before. Maybe this is temporary, maybe it's not. I think it has to do with losing some of the blissful ignorance that comes with not knowing loss. I wish I could still live in that space of just assuming everything will always work out for the best. It sounds nice. It was nice.
I wrote this post because not a lot of people talk about miscarriage. It's so common, but when you're going through it, you feel incredibly alone. I wanted to know that my feelings were valid. Maybe this will give comfort to someone else who has lost something important.
"Love anything and your heart will be...broken."
- C. S. Lewis