Everything’s the same, but so different now

This is a week that has started and will end in celebration. We celebrated our wedding anniversary at the start of the week and will be celebrating our son’s birthday at the weekend with a few of his friends and a lot of pizza.

A few weeks ago, the thought of celebrating anything seemed impossible. We lost our baby. We took the test one day, and although a little faint, it was positive. The two lines were there. Me and Keith were over the moon. We’ve talked about Baby Number 2, or Beanie as we have called her for years and it was finally happening.

Concerned about the faintness of the line, we waited a few days. It felt like the longest weekend of our lives. We took another test. Only the one line. At that point we had 1001 different thoughts going through our heads, the main one hoping that it was just a mistake and baby was ok. The next day confirmed it. We had miscarried.

I read this article from Scary Mommy a few days ago “I’m ok yet I’m not ok. This is What My Pregnancy Loss Feels Like”. This article says everything I feel right now. The thoughts going through my head, mixed emotions, the anger, the guilt and the pain. It’s like the universe’s cruellest joke.

But we’re ok yet we’re not ok.

Everything has changed yet nothing has changed.

“I didn’t know that miscarriage occurs in 1 out of 4 pregnancies, 25%, and there is usually absolutely no reason. The baby is there, alive, and then it is gone.”*

I wasn’t able to walk far without crippling over in pain. A short walk that we always do was cut short. I couldn’t do a supermarket shop because the pain was too much. The school run pretty much left me in a heap for the rest of the day, not only physically but emotionally. How to start each day with a smile on my face and act like everything was ok when it bloody well wasn’t.

We haven’t told our son. We know the early days are touch and go and we wanted to be as sure as sure could be before telling him he’d be a big brother. What he did know was that mummy had a sore tummy for a few days and would very gently kiss it better and sing me songs about feeling better soon. And he’d talk about what he’d learnt at school, new dinosaur facts and tell bum jokes. How can a person feel so heartbroken yet so blessed at the same time? Our beautiful boy is growing up to an amazing guy and both me and Keith are so proud and feel so incredibly lucky to have him in our lives.

“Why don’t we talk about miscarriage more? Why is there a stigma around it? I’ve thought about this a lot in the past week. I’m a very open, honest person. Yet, for days, I was silent. I couldn’t face it. I couldn’t say it out loud.

I’m heartbroken and OK, all at the same time. I have physical symptoms, yet I’m feeling better. It’s almost like I was letting other people down when I tried to talk about it. When I hear myself say, “We lost the baby,” I have mixed reactions. Sometimes I cry. Sometimes I quickly respond with, “Yeah, it’s OK, though,” to take the attention away. I’m OK, and I’m not OK.”*

We’ve dealt with it together and feel that now we can talk about it more openly. It happened to us but it happens to a lot of couples every day. We’ve grieved for Beanie, we’ve said our goodbyes and we’re ok. Well, you know what I mean. I’ve found that when the body does what it naturally does and starts to heal again for whatever may happen next, the mind isn’t quite so easy to play catch up. We went away for a few days and just spent time together. No TV, no phones, just us. It took a while, but we learnt it’s ok to laugh and carry on creating memories together. We’re not betraying Beanie by doing this. Beanie will always be a part of our family. And me and Keith will always be parents to our two kids; to our son who we are able to hold in our arms and to both him and his little brother or sister, who we will hold forever in our hearts.

Today must be a good day, because the universe doesn’t seem as cruel when we feel that lucky.

 

*From Scary Mommy article, mentioned above.