It is Thanksgiving week and as most people are rushing off to some place full of warmth and festivities to spend a lovely weekend with family, I am just praying that I make it through. I suffered a miscarriage in May and my due date would have been this weekend.
I joke that I will survive the weekend on sedatives and wine. I wish I could, but that would not really help my situation. You see, we were not trying for the baby we conceived but, nonetheless, we were blessed with our third pregnancy. We were trepidatious but ecstatic. We were in the full swing of making plans. I was only 3 days from my second trimester when an ultrasound showed no heartbeat. I remember those words like they were yesterday, coming slowly out of the tech's mouth and fatally wounding my heart.
That first month, I wanted nothing more than to just stop being. You can't imagine the heartbreak losing a pregnancy brings. I never did. I used to naively think that it wasn't such a big deal especially so early on; after all, you had not even met this little soul yet, never held him in your arms or buried your face in her hair as she nuzzled close to you in the middle of the night. I was so wrong.
I loved my baby from the moment that I knew he existed. I loved my baby more than words can ever convey and with his/her due date fast approaching, I feel that loss once again. My heart is heavy with grief. I don't know how to be thankful when I am suffering so much.
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Losing a pregnancy is like losing part of yourself. It hurts beyond anything I have ever experienced. I feel like I exist in the world as an open wound this week. I remember the pain so vividly of those first weeks after I lost our baby; the emptiness, the unrelenting pain, the hole that can never be filled and I know that Saturday, I once again will want to crawl inside myself, be still and disappear. This is inconsolable grief.
It's hard to explain this to someone who has never gone through it and I hope none of you have or never will, but if you have, you know that approaching Saturday for me is waiting for confirmation, that last solid kick in my teeth. After Saturday, I have to accept that this is my reality. I lost a child and I will never hold my baby, ever.
I think the holidays are hard for anyone who has ever lost someone close to them, just the knowing that they won't come walking through the door and grace you with their smile and greet you with their hug ever again. This is my first real holiday since the miscarriage and also the day that would have been due date. I don't think that Thanksgiving will ever be the same again for me.
This Thursday, I will be surrounded by loved ones, but I will know that someone is missing. I will do my best to be thankful for all that I have, even as the realization of all that I have lost comes crashing down around me. I will be thankful for my two amazing daughters who sit by my side, as I silently mourn for the baby who never will be. This Thanksgiving, I will hold my husband's hand and squeeze a little tighter because I am thankful that I have such an amazing and strong rock who loves me and comforts me, even when his own heart is breaking. I will be thankful for all the love that fills my home, even though I only want to collapse and hide from the world. This Thanksgiving, I will give thanks to God that I got the opportunity to love my baby for a lifetime even though I never got to hold him.
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