Tuesday, May 14, 2013

After the miscarriages

Well now that you know what happened in each miscarriage let me tell you how I handled those miscarriages.

HORRIBLE!! I was so mad and angry.  I was not only mad at God, but I found myself mad at the random lady at Wal-Mart that was pregnant. I avoided pregnant people like the plague. There were very FEW people that I was actually happy for. And those people were mostly other people who had trouble getting pregnant or people who had miscarriages before (which to be honest were people that I met through the Internet).  I stopped seeing one of my close friends because she had 2 babies and every time she was pregnant I had been pregnant and lost my babies, but she had very healthy babies.  I couldn't figure out why God didn't want me to have my babies, but my friend had NO problems.  Did God hate me?  What did I freaking do wrong? I can't explain to you how angry I was. I stopped talking to God all together, we pretty much didn't have a relationship.

Jed had a hard time after the second miscarriage.  It didn't help that during my second miscarriage I was in SOOO much pain that I told him that I was done and that we would have to adopt if we ever wanted to have children. A few days after the miscarriage Jed broke down and we got to talking and I told him that we would try one more time. I knew emotionally that I could not be that woman that experienced 7 miscarriages hoping that #8 would be the lucky one.  I just knew that I couldn't handle that.  But I could try one more time. The doctor's said that the 2 miscarriages were not linked together, that the first one was just a normal miscarriage (and natures way of preventing the child from having a hard life if he/she would have been born or me carrying to term and it not making it through the delivery) and the second one was due to an infection. I had to tell myself this over and over again as we decided to move forward.

Also let me tell you, that I HATED hearing "well everything happens for a reason." It got to a point where I stopped talking about the miscarriages because people would say that to me and I would want to punch them. I would like to know what the reason is for taking my babies away from me. I know that people were trying to be nice, but this really isn't a great phrase to use. I didn't like hearing it when Abby died either. It seems like people use that phrase when they don't know what to say to you, but are trying to make you feel better. So tread lightly if you are going to use this phrase with someone that is mourning a loss.

After a while I ended up going on some anti-depression medication because I was having a hard time getting up in the morning and enjoying my life. At first all I wanted to do was wallow in my misery and hold on to my  depression.  If I was sad then it was my weird way of hanging on to my baby. I know that sounds crazy, but I didn't want to be happy. If I was sad then I wouldn't forget him. I ended up talking to my priest and he helped me out a lot. Although I will say that I was pretty surprised when he said that I was the first person he had talked to about miscarriage. He said that he knew of women who had experienced the same loss, but other than that he hadn't really met with them one on one. He said that helping me helped him understand more what these other women went through. He was grateful for me to open up to him.

I ended up decorating a box for my second miscarriage and put things in there that people had gave me once they found out I was pregnant.  I figured that the things in there were for that child and not the child I would have down the road. I didn't want any other child to have those things, those items were his. We buried that box at the cemetery and I went there often to visit that spot.  We had a little ceremony for him and I read a poem to him. Then the priest blessed the box and we buried it. It was very emotional, but I needed it.  I just didn't want him to be forgotten or that he wasn't important to us.

After the ceremony I still was angry with God and I was still avoiding pregnant women or women with babies. Every person that called to tell me that they were pregnant was like taking a knife to my stomach.  I was happy for them to an extent, but I was so sad for myself. I tried SOOO hard to just be happy for them, but I couldn't help it. It hurt too bad. So I would end up avoiding them. There was a group of women that were all due around the same time I was, August, September, October, November, and December (I was December), I avoided these women like they were the plague. They all had what I wanted and what I should have. One of my good friends was October and I completely let that friendship slip.  I was very lucky that she understood and after I was pregnant with R she started to call again and make herself more present (I know she knew why I couldn't be around her, there were no words that needed to be exchanged, but I am so glad that we are friends again.) But it makes me sad that my anger and sadness kept me from some of my friends, that doesn't make me a very good friend. But as hard as I tried, I could do it. I just couldn't and I'm so sorry for hurting anyone during this time, but my heart hurt too bad.

After the first miscarriage I forced myself to go see my friends new baby in the hospital and I was honestly happy for them, but once we got home I broke down and started to cry.  Jed hugged me and said, "It isn't like they won and you lost, you will have your baby one day."  But that is exactly how I felt, they won and I lost. And why did they win and why am I sitting here crying? I asked WHY so many times. Thinking back to it, it makes me mad. It was a waste of time.  I am NEVER going to know why those babies didn't make it.

After Abby died people asked the same question, "Why?" and I got to thinking about this one little word. I mean I was the Queen for asking this question. What good does it do to constantly ask this? It doesn't, it is just normal. But then I thought about this, if God answered this question then would it make you feel better? I mean if God came to me and said that my babies were needed to be angels to protect other babies, would this make me feel better. Maybe, but maybe not. I was selfish and I wanted those babies with me. Why did he put me through the pain?  Well, maybe because he knew I could handle it and that he knew Jed would stand beside me through it all. Someone told me they thought I was incredibly strong for living through what I did and I thought they were crazy.  What choice did I have? I was dealt some shitty cards, but you have to keep playing. But maybe I could have given up.  Maybe I could have not reached out to my local priest and just let the depression eat me up. Maybe God knew I would reach out to our local priest and help him understand what a woman goes through during a miscarriage and he can help other women going through the same thing. There are a million reasons "why" God could have made me experience these losses, but I am not sure if they really make up for me not having my babies. I am not mad about it any more, but I find myself not wasting my time asking "why" any more because the answers may not be good enough. I will know the answers when I am in heaven and until then, I have to trust they are in good hand. TRUST, what a hard word to use. But eventually I had to trust God again. And that is the day I found out I was pregnant with R. I had no choice but to trust him. I wanted to do it on my own, but deep down I knew that I would need God to help me bring R into this world. And he didn't let me down, I have a beautiful son.

But let me tell you, getting pregnant wasn't the end of my mourning, but that is for another day.  Maybe tomorrow. But let me leave you with this, you will NEVER forget your children, alive or not alive. They are with you every where you go. Miscarriages are no exception. I think of those angel babies every day. It may not hurt as much to think about them, but I think of them every day. I love them and they are some of the biggest reasons that I want to make it to Heaven. One day I will hold them in my arms and I will get to tell them how much I love them. That day will come, but until then I hold R and I tell him every day that I love him.

Seeing that smile is worth all the pain. I am so thankful that we kept trying, it was ALL worth it. I won't forget his siblings and one day I will tell him about them, but until then I will keep hugging him and giving him all the love I can!

I hope you folks have a good day!!!

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