Yesterday was six months since I held my lifeless child in the palm of my hand.
I knelt in the bathroom floor staring in shock and wonder at this tiny, translucent baby who never had the chance to breathe. I was surprised at how human and yet how alien our child looked at that early stage of development. I didn’t expect to see a recognizable infant. I never saw it with my first miscarriage.
I experienced a hugely conflicting range of emotions.
I felt guilty, because I was still wrestling with the fear of going through another complicated pregnancy and delivery, and of the impact that would have on my health and family. I felt grief, because I hadn’t had time to truly love my baby until I held it dead in my hand. I felt selfish and unworthy of grieving when I was so scared of everything that this pregnancy meant for me. I felt frustration, because the few people I told didn’t understand what I was going through. I felt peace in knowing something about this baby wasn’tviable, and I did nothing wrong. I felt angry that my preventive measures failed to put us through this loss at all. I can’t even say everything I felt.
I told very few people about my miscarriage.
This baby was unplanned. I hadn’t told anyone about it yet, since I needed time to accept it myself. We would have loved it the same as our other children, but we had agreed not to risk my health with another pregnancy. I had barely started coming to terms with going through it again for our new baby when it was gone. I didn’t feel either deserving of sympathy or able to cope with criticism, so I kept quiet.
I don’t know why I am so sad again.
I keep seeing that barely forming baby laying in my hand. I feel that surge of confusing emotions all over. I still don’t want to deal with pregnancy ever again, but I grieve over the one I lost. It is illogical and crazy, but I suspect that I am not alone. Hopefully my sharing will help someone else see that she is not the only one dealing with a confusing reaction to miscarriage of an unplanned pregnancy.