When a woman has a baby and is depressed there is a lot of help out there for her. They do not want her to harm the baby or herself.
When a woman goes through a devastating miscarriage, or six, there is very little help. When she discusses her emotions and her feelings, her pain and her loss she is told it is “normal” and will pass. If you lose a child after it is born you are not told it will pass, you are allowed to grieve. Women who go through miscarriages, especially first trimester, are written off. Told, as I have been, to wait for the pregnancy hormones to go away and things will write themselves.
I’ve never truly grieved from any of my miscarriage losses, not the first trimester, second trimester or third trimester losses. It is not socially acceptable. It is as if you are supposed to just go on with your life. The surgery, or if your body naturally aborts the baby, ends the pregnancy and the discussion. Yeah, you lost a baby, but really at nine weeks it was just a pile of tissue, sure it had a heartbeat but its not like it even looked like a baby.
I am not going to post a picture of what a nine week miscarriage looks like, the shock factor is not what I am going for. Google it if you choose. But they do look like babies because they ARE a baby. A baby. A human. And I believe with a soul. I know the exact moment when mine have died. I have woken up, or if I am awake, I simply feel the emptiness where once I felt full.
It is not just the loss of the baby it is the lost of the hopes and the dreams that comes with a baby. I don’t know what it feels like to be loved, but I know a baby, only a baby of mine, could love me. A baby loves its mother. It depends on them. A baby needs you. A baby belongs to you. You love and you cherish the child. I am not naïve, I know the work it takes to raise a baby, I’ve raised children, I’ve taken care of them, I’ve been there. I know.
I want a baby to be a merging of my love for my husband, a merging of our blood, a continuance of our blood lines. I want a baby to raise to be a vibrant, loving human being. I want a baby to grow my family, to share my love and my passions for life with, to show the beauty of the world with. There are hundreds of reasons why I want a baby. A blood baby. Both of my parents are dead. I am the only child from them. I also think the biological aspect is important for other reasons.
So when you lose a baby, when it dies inside of you, the reasons unknown and in one second those hopes and dreams are shattered it takes more then a drop of hcg levels to make the pain go away.
When that occurs time and time again it becomes heartbreaking and unbearable. And when you are faced with staring at women who have babies, healthy, beautiful children and had no problem conceiving and are faced with your inadequacies as a woman it is hard and it hurts.
It’s not so easy to get over. Not so easy to forget about.
I lost my appendix. The process hurt. But I was not attached to my appendix. I don’t walk around looking at other people’s appendixes or seeing them grow inside of them. I physically healed and emotionally it was no problem.
When I log into facebook I see my friends beautiful smiling children. I see growing bellies. I see positive pregnancy test. I see ultrasound photos. When I go out I see new born babies everywhere I look. Constant reminders of the pain.
Pain pills run out, the bleeding stops, but time continues. Your due date happens. And happens again. And if you are like me there are multiple due dates. You see women who were pregnant at the same time as you celebrating the childs third birthday, fourth birthday, fifth birthday. Christmas comes around and you realize you could have five beautiful precious children sharing the holiday with you instead of being there alone.
Infertility hurt. Miscarriages hurt. The pain doesn’t just dissipate and it shouldn’t be a hidden, secret pain that women have to go through alone.
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