Here's the thing.
I know I can have another baby—at least, I'm pretty sure—but right now I don't want another baby. I want the one I had. I saw that baby on the ultrasound, and I liked that baby. That baby was MINE. I spent hours staring at the print-out of what essentially was a gummy bear, and cooing over it. I decided it was some kind of genius baby. In the picture we have, it's kind of sticking its arms out, like it's waving hello at us. Genius! Clearly! Having people tell me that it's for the best, that I'll have another, that what I'm going through right now is all hormones, does not address the difficulty I'm having with the whole idea of THIS baby being gone. Indeed, it seems to imply that the baby wasn't real or meaningful to me. Having someone define the words I wrote in the throes of all this as "good thing it died, because it might have been disabled" makes me want to tear that person's throat out. No. I lost my baby, and it was a good baby, and it was the one I wanted. I realize I never met it, and that I'm not making any rational kind of sense. I realize said baby might have been a genetically nonviable scramble of material. But only I can say that. As for you, you badmouth my baby and I will kick you in the teeth.
I'm a little angry, these days.










May 12, 2008
Reader Comments (307)
You are allowed to mourn this baby, this little person you had become attached to. That's okay.
you know, thanks for sharing this with us... that's hard enough. i'm sure you're helping countless women going through the same thing feel like they're not the only one...
besides, even if you were saying what they assumed you were saying... tough shit, because you're entitled to your true and honest feelings while you're feeling them.
you know, thanks for sharing this with us... that's hard enough. i'm sure you're helping countless women going through the same thing feel like they're not the only one...
besides, even if you were saying what they assumed you were saying... tough shit, because you're entitled to your true and honest feelings while you're feeling them.
I hope that isn't too earthy birthy for you, yes I am one of those.....be kind, don't make too much fun of me ;)
If I meet them first, they won't have any teeth left for you to kick.
I'm so sorry.
And I'm so sorry for your loss.
Loved your Star Wars essay in Wondertime.
I am also awkwardly cyber hugging you right at this moment.
xoxoxo.
After another loss, I'm trying to get up the nerve to try again. Because I also went nuts after these from hormones maybe. Maybe just from loss. So I think that is also daunting. Usually, we don't willingly do things that make us nuts. But I'm trying next month. (This month, I overdid on caffeine and I'm just that paranoid right now.)
I'm so sorry for your loss. This might just be the kind of situation where crazy is normal.
I guess one thing that made it harder is that I never felt very entitled to complain about it. I think I had the reaction from people that it was no big deal at all to lose two--even from women with losses. So in a way, you are helping me a bit since I do think I tried to evade grieving and that cowardice is biting me back at the moment because of the due date. I hope you will give yourself time to get angry and grieve and be sad. It's a huge loss and I think there might be no way to avoid facing that at one point or another.
(13 weeks, 3 days, 6/18/2003.)
Don't let anyone else tell you how to feel.
My kids are adopted so I haven't been through your pain. My parents miscarried a baby before I was born, and the first thing my father said after he was diagnosed with cancer [38 years later] was "When I get to heaven I can finally see my son." It makes me cry just typing that.
Hang in there, Sweetie!!! Sending hugs and prayers from Atlanta -Dee
Anyone that says Badmouth my baby and I'll kick you in the teeth, is someone I adore immediately.
I know I don't yet know what you have been through, but I wanted to say I am very sorry for your loss. Sounds like that baby would have been very lucky to get you as a mommy.
Halliehttp://wonderfulworldofweiners.blogspot.com/
I'll personally be part of your squadron of ass-kicking bitches who attack the insensitive jerks of the world. Or anyone you want.
Grieve, honey, it is normal and healthy and all the stages of grief will tumble-jumble together.
Anger, despair, denial...yup, all of them.
And then one day it will get a little easier. Not easy, mind you, not forgotten, not "over", just...easier.
You will come through this. And when you are ready, if you are ever ready, to try again, you will know. Trust yourself.
My thing is: you get to do what is right for you and you don't need to explain it to anyone.
Miscarriage is so hard to wrap your brain around. It's so sudden and the outcome of your pregnancy just takes such an abrupt, unexpected hairpin turn. It doesn't ache and hurt in my soul the way it did 10 years ago, and I think the reason for that is that is that I too assimilated the notion that the children that I wasn't able to bring into this world are alive in Garrett. Maybe that's why he's got so many facets to his wild little monkey personality!
Bless all you wonderful, strong women for sharing your feelings. Females have it tough, but man we ROCK!
Having had 2 miscarriages and 1 wonderful ectopic pregnancy that has deprived me of my right tube, let me just say ...
I'm so sorry.