Just so you know, this post might not be for you.
It’s not going to be fun. Or fit altogether in this nice, neat little package that makes you feel good inside.
Because right now, nothing in my life feels nice or neat. I either feel totally numb and empty — or so full of raw emotion that I want to breakdown and cry, or throw something and hurt something, or hurt myself.
I lost my little baby. My sweet, sweet baby that just wanted a place inside of me that was safe to grow. Just a safe and cozy place where she could burrrow down and develop into this amazing little miracle of a person. Instead of burrowing in my uterus, that was ready and waiting for her, she got cozy in my fallopian tube.
How I wish I could have willed her little body forward, down into the special place God created her to be for 9 long months! Instead, we got just a few weeks.
At times today, I wondered if I was the lucky one? So many people lose their babies — and no one knows. I had the emergency surgery. I had family have to take Maddy because I couldn’t take care of her. I got the bedrest, the time to myself, the time to grieve. I got the flowers, and the dinners at home. I am thankful — but I also feel like I don’t deserve it. So many other moms don’t get any extra help, no dinners, no flowers. Few people may even know that they suffered a loss.
On Saturday, the day after I believed I had miscarried, I was so full of grief. I was tired of being around people, so I took an almost 2-hour-long shower at our hotel. All I could think of was, if I’m going through this, other people are too. How can we break the silence?
I don’t normally like to put myself out there like this. To be honest about how much this hurts. To admit that I’m so not in control. But if it could help one other woman . . . I think it’s worth it. If I share my grief, and just one more person had help working through her grief, then maybe my baby’s short life could make a difference.
To my sweet baby girl, I love you and miss you with all of my heart.