Anyone who has had a loss, and I feel like this especially applies to pregnancy loss, knows that there are a million dates that serve as tiny reminders. Most women can tell you exactly how many weeks they should be, because every Wednesday is a reminder. Every month after a loss, they remember. Every due date, every anniversary, or special day. In my case, there are two painful dates this month. On September 26th, 2014, my water broke and within hours my precious Matthew died. On September 28th, 2014, I saw my baby for the first and last time. Everything that happened within those 37+ hours is burned into my memory forever.
Have I thought about it every day since it happened? Thankfully, no. I've had my share of distractions, both happy and not so happy since then. I have another baby to love, but of course he will never replace the one I lost. But lately, everything reminds me about how much I miss my firstborn. Going to birthing classes and talking about possible hospital interventions. Hearing the words "epidural" or "cytotec" at these classes and feeling the urge to weep and tell everyone there what happened to me, because I just want to tell my story over and over again until it doesn't hurt so bad. Even checking my calendar, my eyes go straight to the 26th and 28th.
I've been finding myself just wanting to talk to someone about my baby. To just tell them every single painful detail without feeling like I'm bothering them or upsetting them.
I wish I could say that I have only had happy feelings about this pregnancy. I wish I could say that it's been so easy to get excited and bond with this baby before he enters the world. But truth be told, it's been terrifying. I love him so much, but it's still not even real to me that he will probably be born completely fine, and most importantly, alive. I feel an urgency to get things ready for him, yet at the same time feel a familiar fear that I will come home empty-handed again. Just yesterday, he had stopped moving for about 15 minutes or so, and I was already preparing myself for the worst possibility. But of course, he was just fine.
I told this to my midwife who gently said, "He is allowed to nap, you know." Of course he is. I know what I need to do, which is trust in God and not myself. Worrying does nothing. I know that. But why does it have to be so hard? Why do I have to always be "in control"? It's exhausting.
I don't want anyone to think that I'm just an anxious mess all the time and that I don't find joy in anything. God is still sovereign, and comforts people like me. I have more good days than bad. But it's been really tough these last few days to keep my joy and to not be anxious.
I just ask that anyone who reads this prays for me. Pray that I can find peace. Pray that I can trust God more. Pray that I don't continue to struggle with these fears after Benjamin is born.
Oh Sarah,I'm so sorry that you've been feeling this way! I want to hug you like the little sister that you are and tell you it will be ok :-C
ReplyDeleteHave you been able to talk to anyone professional (or even semi-professional) about this? My aunt had several stillborn children and she always said that without her counselor at church she would never have been able to enjoy the children she WAS able to carry to term. These sound like very serious feelings you are having, and if they aren't addressed they can get really big and scary.
Not to suggest the obvious, but surely you've considered a pregnancy-loss support group? It can be a huge comfort to talk with others who have been through the same thing and know exactly how you feel.
ReplyDelete