Random Musing in Loss: II
I haven’t looked up anything about miscarriages. Since I saw the blood, I haven’t read a thing, not one article, not a single research finding. Anyone who knows me knows that’s not my nature, but I feel anything about miscarriages would be too foreign, so lacking in human touch it would make me feel like a science experiment versus a human who lost a child. I leaned into and trusted my midwife greatly to guide me through, and I’m not looking back. I’m never going to look at any of the science.
Society makes me sad, because to many, you weren’t worthy of life, your life balanced on my words versus your complete human form. It really struck me when your dad wasn’t given bereavement when he stayed home to mourn with me. At what point would your life matter enough to be mourned?
I wish I knew it was going to be an emotional rollercoaster like this, and that the ride could have you so high in the sky, you’d forget there was even a bad time. But when the low times hit, you can’t remember the sun was once out (cue Andy Mineo – …Lost)
The worst thing about being public about my miscarry is the look in people’s eyes, how they know, but they don’t say anything, how they’re hurt for me, but can’t say a thing to make me feel better. I feel some people are scared of miscarries that they then become afraid of me and what I could say. Feeling like an outcast by some I thought would love me through has been hard, but I’m processing. It’s amazing how your tragedy brings out someone’s fears. I wish to be as bold as the woman who had a tattoo that said ‘I had an abortion’ on her arm. I wish when I met her I’d know two weeks later my child would abort my womb.
I packed my maternity clothes up, with a bit of aggression I ripped the shirts of the hangers, wondering if my womb could ever fill enough for these shirts, or would I be begging a woman to take these out of my possession soon enough.
Ryan and I talked about it, it’s like you’re being kicked in the gut, repeatedly, and ask to stand back up and do it again. And again. And someone is still kicking you, and you’re still gasping for air, and you’re still trying to stand your ground.
I’d be lying to say I’m not afraid. I’m afraid to try again. I’m afraid God gave me one good seed and said that’s it, as if my desire for a big family aren’t in His plans. C’mon, we all want to play God once in a while, and this is my once in a while.
I feel some people are born with the ability to grieve with people, they know exactly what to do, and I’m thankful for them.
Be good,
Sydney
