My hope with this post is not that Mom's with all successful pregnancies will feel sad or guilty, please don't! My hope is that those who have experienced loss will realize that it happens, and it happens frequently! You are not alone and it is NOT your fault. This is the body's way of terminating an unhealthy pregnancy, whether due to fetal defects or defects in the baby's environment. Most importantly, there is a God-given rainbow at the end of this storm. There may be several storms, I am so sorry if that is the case. However, my rainbow baby (now at 15 weeks) means more to me than anything in this world. And I pray every single day that the plan God has already made for this sweet baby is for a life centered on God and glorifying to his name.
When you read this please take the time to realize what a miracle birth is. There is no way that science can be solely responsible for such a divine experience. God Bless you all!
The Pain Worse Than Labor
They always say that childbirth is the worst pain of all. You hear groups of women clad in their newest outfits sharing stories like fisherman around restaurant tables. The 10 lb. bass and the 10 lb. baby, they are all the same. The ultimate battle of the sexes: childbirth vs. the passing of a kidney stone.
We want to be moms, whether by plan or by surprise. Each maturing girl knows to expect the pain but “it is so worth it” and “the joy is so great that you forget the pain and end up doing it multiple times.” We hear, we believe. Men have it so easy.
What matters is what isn’t being said.
We bleed but we hold it all inside. Some can spread the burden while others decide its best to minimize the damage.
What isn’t being said is that there is a pain worse than the laboring of birth. Quietly the quarter suffer just to be a statistic.
This life we held inside will never be loved by anyone but us. There will be no ridiculous bonnets and cigars. With each cramp our dream slips away into a vague memory of an experience we expected to be clouded with innocence. The future only holds fear and the hope of a redeeming gift, if we can get past the anxiety of a reoccurrence.
Veiled sympathy surrounds us. For the announcement that was never made, the parents suffer alone. We open just to be told, “It happens.” But the question of why still lingers as we waddle in maxis.
The truth is, we yearn for the loss of that pain. We wanted to contract and hone breathing techniques. There is no first cry at the end of this tunnel.
We know in our hearts its all a part of the plan but it was not a part of our plan. That hurts.
The hormones decrease as our body expels what we wanted so badly. We vary between numbness, harmful thoughts, agony and sadness; are we losing our minds? But to the white coats and standbys, it is all “normal.” It doesn’t feel normal.
You grieve alone and have to continue the pursuit of happiness with everyone else. From the highest high to the lowest low all we can do is keep marching and try again.
For now we remain silent in our suffering and endure your poetic remarks “it is just like a heavy period,” “well maybe you weren’t ready anyways.”
The innocence of the experience is forever lost for us and until we get our redemption we will continue to “like” your announcements, buy your precious baby shoes, and convulse every time we pass the MTV programming listing. Because after all, who values the miracle of life and childbirth more than we?