What Nobody Wants to Talk About...

Well, I don't really know what people do or don't want to talk about. But, I know what I don't want to talk about. Losing a baby. And yet, I do want to talk about it. This is such a strange and heart-wrenching experience for me right now. I feel so heartbroken, and strangely alone in my grief. I know there are so many people who care, and feel for us, and yet, I wonder how validated my pain will be. Quite frankly, I'm surprised myself at how sad I am. Statistically, every woman will experience at least one miscarriage (so they say). So, it shouldn't be that big of a deal, right? The baby was barely a baby. It happens. We can get pregnant again (I think). We've got Sophia.

And yet, I feel such a loss. And then I feel ok. And I feel like talking about it. And then I feel like I want to be alone, and not have anyone ask nosy questions. And then I have to sit down and deal with the facts that are still ahead of me. And then I fall apart again and I just bawl until my head hurts. :( You want to know the facts? Well, let me fill you in. Because, I think this is the stuff people don't talk about. At least I was clueless and ignorant. I am having what is called a 'missed miscarriage'. It means that our little baby has died. The heart stopped beating and growth has ceased. But, my body hasn't caught on to that yet, and has kept up the pregnancy. It means, I haven't actually miscarried the baby yet. I've only found out, based on the ultra sound, that little baby is no longer alive. Now I can sit around, and wait and see when my body is catching on and taking action, or I can opt for a surgery. The surgery is really just a nicer term for abortion. Aren't those great options? The best is that the natural miscarriage may not happen for weeks, like...maybe 4-6 weeks. So, what's a girl who's flying to Germany in a few weeks to do? Who wants a miscarriage, away from their husband, with no health care support? But, who wants to go to the hospital and have a little baby removed?

Even as I'm typing this I feel these are such ugly truths that I just don't want to think about, and it dawns on me that this is a reality a lot of women have had to face. How come I didn't know how ugly this is? How come I have to find out personally now? I'd rather not. I'd rather find out that it was just a mistake, and to find that sweet little heart beat we were so excited for. But, as much as I like to pretend things are ok, I keep getting small and simple reminders that they are not, and that there is more bad stuff ahead. Miscarriages are horrible, and I had no idea. And so here I sit, writing about it. Not because I'm so eager to share these personal details with the world, but because I didn't know how much this would hurt, and because I feel alone, when I know I'm not. I yearn to be connected and have the world grieve with me, and yet I want to be alone in my grief. And somehow I feel better writing this down, and sharing, so people know what it's like. Maybe writing this down makes me feel less alone. I don't know. But here it is, for the world to read. Read this world: Miscarriages SUCK!

Really.

But, I'm glad to have Henry to hug. And Sophia to hug. And chocolate ice cream to eat. And brainless TV to keep my mind numbed. And friends and family who are reaching out in love to us. It's sure a good thing I'm not actually alone. I've definitely felt a sense of peace that I know is nothing but a tender mercy of the Lord, and most likely a result of all the prayers spoken for us. For those things, I'm grateful.