Hubby and I take a lot of these silhouette photos when we travel. He's a little shy of having his photo taken, so this was our compromise. We took one just before our first miscarriage and when I look at it, it seems fitting somehow. We are still here, but in a sense we are just shadows of what we were before. We're working hard at getting back to their light, but at the same time, I don't think the light will ever shine quite that brightly again.
Physically things seem to be going well since the miscarriage. I have keyed up the Ovia fertility app again and it is stubbornly telling me that we are right in the middle of my fertile window although I haven't felt that tell tale ovulation pain at this point. I am not really expecting anything, we have mostly decided to at least wait until my first period before trying again.
I was told again that we get to have fun trying again. It's just not fun. The first two times we dtd after our most recent loss I cried. Before, during and after. They say sex is all in the head for women (not that I agree) but in this case all I could think of was that there should still be a baby in there and then we wouldn't be 'trying' at all. And I cried for our baby, our loss, our grief, my husband and myself. Then I cried because I was crying and... well, it goes on.
The grief is almost unbearable at times. I look at my beautiful husband, a father with no children to hold and my heart just feels so bruised, so shattered. I can feel for him, he's such a part of me and I want to protect him. What I can't deal with is being told that I have to make other people feel better. I keep being reminded that other people are sad about our loss and I should be trying to make them feel better. I just can't. I can't pick up the phone to comfort someone how hasn't even sent a message to see how were doing.
So, the days are moving past and we are trying to begin again. Nothing will change what has happened in the past or the hole in our hearts and lives where our babies should be, but we can try to look to the future and remind ourselves that next time, just maybe, things will be different.
Three days after I gave birth to my stillborn daughter, I went into work (I was on "maternity leave") after hours to get something off my computer. My old boss was there, whom I had always hated and had brought me to tears (privately) many times when I worked for her. She came over to me, and upon meeting my husband for the very first time, told me that our loss "was part of God's plan, and we can have fun trying again". I'm so sorry you had to hear that too, among the many horrible things people say.
ReplyDeleteI'm sorry that we all have to hear these things.That's part of why I want to write about it, even if it stops one person from saying something thoughtless it will be worth it!
DeleteI honestly don't know why people feel the need to say such things anyway. Surely the easiest and kindest thing to say is just, "I'm so sorry."