One Year

It has been one year since my miscarriage. One year ago Saturday that I found out the baby had passed away. And one year ago today that I finally got the courage to take the medicine that helped me pass the tissue.

I don’t know when the moment was that the baby’s heart had stopped beating. I often wonder about that moment. Where was I? What was I doing? Did I feel anything different in that moment? It makes me feel strange knowing that in the two weeks between the baby’s approximate passing and the day I found out, I was still telling new people about the pregnancy. I just feel like somehow, on some level, I should have known.

I know in my right mind, a whole year of recovery later, that it’s silly for me to feel that way. That there’s almost no way I could have known. That I should not feel so foolish for wanting to spread the joy of our pregnancy so early on. Yet in my heart, I still feel all of these things.

I am still grieving today, something I wasn’t expecting. I mean, I knew it would take some time, but I figured being pregnant again would take a lot of the sting out of it. Surprisingly, not so. I have a new baby on the way, almost halfway through its gestation already, and yet I still spend hours thinking about the baby I lost, and grieving for that lost little soul.

I don’t want to discourage any other survivors reading this post. I do feel so much better and more whole than I did a year ago. LIGHTYEARS ahead of where I was. But I am still grieving. Grief is one of the most complicated emotions humans have, I think.

I’ve lost people before, people I knew well and loved, but this was something different. In addition to grieving the death of the baby, I think I was also in mourning for the loss of opportunity to get to know that baby as my child. I will never know if it was a boy or girl, introvert or extrovert, what their likes and dislikes would be, what their talents would be, who their friends would be. I get to experience all of that with the new baby, but I will always wonder about that little soul I never got to meet.

It’s all still so fresh in my mind, it’s hard to believe an entire year has gone by. I want to thank you all from the bottom of my heart for being there for me this past year. For all of your condolences and words of encouragement. I needed them so much, and I can’t tell you how very much they meant to me.

Onward we go.

A Conversation

In the car, driving to the grocery store:

Bowie: Mama, do you have a new baby?

Me: uuuummmm, what?

Bowie: Do you have a new baby? The baby in your belly?

I did tell him a few times that there was a “baby in my belly”. But that was it. And I haven’t said a word since the miscarriage.

Me: Uh, there’s not a baby in my belly.

Bowie: Yes, there is a baby in your belly!

Me: Well…that baby got a boo boo and had to go away.

Bowie: Oh. [pause] I can get it back!

Me: I wish we could, but that baby is gone forever. We will have to work really hard to make a new one.

Bowie: Yes. Because I want to have a baby in my family.

Never thought I’d have to have that conversation. Poor kid. It must be hard to comprehend stuff like that. Lord knows it’s tough for adults.

Two

Yesterday my baby boy turned two. All I can say lately is, “WOW. TWO. WOW.”

We returned yesterday evening from another whirlwind family visit in Wisconsin, and we drove past the hospital he was born in. It does not feel like two whole years have passed!

Partially, I think that is because we are still total noob parents, and Bowie reminds us every day. After all the poop blow outs, all the public tantrums, all the sugar crashes, all the day trips with no diapers, we are still making mistakes daily. But my mom says that never stops. So I feel better. I think.

Bowie, what can I say about you at age two? You are a CHATTERBOX. You walk around all day long, trying out your new words, your new phrases, and some of that gibberish you’ve always been saying. When mama lets you park your tuckus in front of the TV, you’re really enjoying Sesame Street, Yo Gabba Gabba, Dinosaur Train, Curious George, Thomas the Tank Engine and, oddly, Super Readers.

But if you had to pick just one, I’m positive it would be Thomas. You love trains and planes and bikes and cars and basically anything else with wheels. Also, dinosaurs, balls, rocks, mud, hammers, you are ALL BOY ALL THE TIME. Which I am learning to love.

Your picky eating habits are on their way out the door. (Well, now I’ve jinxed it.) Lately you’ve been enjoying some new things, and even eat what we do for dinner occasionally. I have to get out of the habit of making two different things for meals before you figure out that you have me completely wrapped around your little finger.

Your sleeping habits leave something to be desired, as I have been chronicling here lately. But, mommy and daddy still have a few tricks up their sleeves, and things are improving. It could have a lot to do with the whole cutting of the two year molars, and the fact that I haven’t, for almost two months now, been able to find a decent disposable diaper, and you often wake up soaked in your own pee pee. Sorry about that.

This is a fun age. I would say that I wish you could stay this age, but I have said that a lot in the past, and it always turns out that the next stage is always even more fun. I’m looking forward to watching you grow up day by day.

Happy second birthday, sweet pea! Here’s to a whole bunch more!

Love,

Mommy

Now I am a Statistic

Yesterday, I was laid off. My employment fell prey to the recession. You know, the one that’s over?

Mentally, I’m optimistic. I didn’t enjoy the job very much, and it was keeping me from several side projects that I would have enjoyed much more. I got a severance package, so if something happens, we’ve got a bit of a cushion. And I wasn’t making much, so with a little effort, making up for my lost income won’t be all that hard to do. Our health insurance is through my husband’s employer, so I didn’t lose that.

Emotionally? I am crushed. That was my first “real” job after college. I have put so many hours and so much hard work into that company and was a large part of the success it became. Before it ultimately took a right hook in the kisser from the “economic downturn”.

And when you are laid off, as opposed to being fired, you know what you did was necessary, and that you did a good job, but that it was so insignificant, such a small drop in the pond, that someone else could add it to their own list of duties, you really are expendable. Such a blow to the ego.

I can, however, take heart in the fact that executives, people who made way more than me, have also been laid off this year. They likely have mortgages and larger families to support. I am in a better position than most, I’m sure.

And hellooooooooo free time. Now I can get to some of my side projects.