the ache
It has been eight weeks since my D&C.
And many of you were right: the pain of my loss does seem to lessen as time goes by. It practically feels like a dream-slash-nightmare. It's hard to imagine that I was actually pregnant at all. Decades seem to have passed. The surrealism of it all makes it easier to cope (that was some other girl in some other lifetime, right?).
But...
My loss seems to have strengthened my desire to be a mother. And instead of desire infused with jealousy or bitterness, it is now more of a desire coupled with sadness.
Three years ago, I was jealous of every pregnant belly. Every pair of tiny hands. Every snotty little nose. Two years ago, I was bitter. Angry. One year ago, I was deeply depressed. Exhausted from failed cycle after failed cycle.
Dipping my toes in the pregnancy water has made me even more determined to make this happen for us. Strength born of sadness. Determination from grief.
And even though I'm more steadfast in my desire than ever before, I also do not assume it will definitely happen for us. I know that there's a chance we will never have a baby. And that makes me incredibly sad. But I am remaining hopeful for what is to come, no matter which path we end up on.
Last night I babysat for W and G. Most of the time, everything is fine when I'm there. I occasionally think how I can't wait to do these things as a mom, but most of the time I don't go down that road. Sometimes I can't help it, though.
As I was singing G to sleep last night, I choked up several times.
When I was a child, my grandmother always sang to my sister and I. One of my favorites was "You Are My Sunshine." Even when I was young, I knew there was some kind of deep sadness mingled in those "happy" lyrics.
And I sing this to G (well, the chorus), along with "Rockabye Baby" and "Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star" (yes, I realize my nursery song arsenal is lacking).
Last night as I was singing "You Are My Sunshine", I became overwhelmed with sadness. I had to fight to keep the tears back, and to keep my mind off of my hopes, dreams, and failures.
I ache for the day I can sing it to my own baby.
_________________
Johnny Cash: You Are My Sunshine
And many of you were right: the pain of my loss does seem to lessen as time goes by. It practically feels like a dream-slash-nightmare. It's hard to imagine that I was actually pregnant at all. Decades seem to have passed. The surrealism of it all makes it easier to cope (that was some other girl in some other lifetime, right?).
But...
My loss seems to have strengthened my desire to be a mother. And instead of desire infused with jealousy or bitterness, it is now more of a desire coupled with sadness.
Three years ago, I was jealous of every pregnant belly. Every pair of tiny hands. Every snotty little nose. Two years ago, I was bitter. Angry. One year ago, I was deeply depressed. Exhausted from failed cycle after failed cycle.
Dipping my toes in the pregnancy water has made me even more determined to make this happen for us. Strength born of sadness. Determination from grief.
And even though I'm more steadfast in my desire than ever before, I also do not assume it will definitely happen for us. I know that there's a chance we will never have a baby. And that makes me incredibly sad. But I am remaining hopeful for what is to come, no matter which path we end up on.
Last night I babysat for W and G. Most of the time, everything is fine when I'm there. I occasionally think how I can't wait to do these things as a mom, but most of the time I don't go down that road. Sometimes I can't help it, though.
As I was singing G to sleep last night, I choked up several times.
When I was a child, my grandmother always sang to my sister and I. One of my favorites was "You Are My Sunshine." Even when I was young, I knew there was some kind of deep sadness mingled in those "happy" lyrics.
And I sing this to G (well, the chorus), along with "Rockabye Baby" and "Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star" (yes, I realize my nursery song arsenal is lacking).
Last night as I was singing "You Are My Sunshine", I became overwhelmed with sadness. I had to fight to keep the tears back, and to keep my mind off of my hopes, dreams, and failures.
I ache for the day I can sing it to my own baby.
_________________
Johnny Cash: You Are My Sunshine
It does get easier day by day. But the hard days still sneak in.
ReplyDeleteI hope and pray that you get your own ball of sunshine to sing to. :)
Thinking of you and praying!
ReplyDeleteAgh! "You Are My Sunshine" is sooo sad! My mom would sing it to me.
ReplyDeleteI relate to your saying it feels almost like you were never pregnant. I have that feeling, too. I have a sense that I could never have been that lucky to have experienced pregnancy for even a few short weeks. I also relate to your loss strengthening your resolve to be a mother. YES.
I hope the grief becomes easier to handle as time goes on--glad to hear that's been the case so far.
I know. I know all too well. I wish I knew a way to make it easier, but I can't. All I can do is tell you that I have faith that one day things will change. And I know that you will be singing to your children soon. In the meantime, keep holding on.
ReplyDeleteI just wanted to say that it sounds like you're in a good place for 8 weeks post miscarriage. The fact that you're looking forward rather than back is awesome.
ReplyDeleteHoping and praying for you.
I love this line:
ReplyDelete"Strength born of sadness. Determination from grief."
That strength and determination will keep fueling you forward until you have your baby in your arms... I'm rooting on that day being sooner rather than later for you lady.
I have always thought that song was sad. Even more so now because that was one of the songs I sang my twins in utero. I hope we still end up with someone tiny to sing to.
ReplyDeleteI so understand what you're going through. And I get the feeling of determination. Determination is wonderful, but not at all costs.
ReplyDeleteMiscarriage in the long term can sometimes make you want to race to fill up the new emptiness that has formed, that feels immediate and tangible. Let yourself be sad, let yourself feel jealous, let yourself feel determined - whatever surfaces. But don't race to fill up that emptiness at all costs. Give yourself time to enjoy the part of you that doesn't have that longing, the one before the Infertility. Keep that part of you growing and thriving, and all the emotional challenges you will face will be, well, not easier, but easier to manage.
Sending you love and light.
I feel that exact same way right now. That it might not ever happen, and that is sad. I hope it does for both of us...soon.
ReplyDeleteYou actually sound incredibly strong for 8 weeks post m/c. I love this version of this song. xoxo
ReplyDeleteHate that feeling! :( But love this song version!
ReplyDelete'You are my sunshine' is an incredibly sad song, and I agree. not sure why, its not the lyrics, maybe its the key signature or something?
ReplyDeleteYour day will come! It will, it will, it will!
ReplyDeleteI know exactly what you mean when you say that experiencing a loss has just made your desire to be a mom even stronger, but added a sadness to it. I felt/feel exactly the same way.
I know exactly how you feel, the ache is killing me, I'm ready for time to pass and to feel better. I'm trying to rush it, but it's just not working! I hope things get better for you friend!
ReplyDeleteMy favorite song. My Mom and Dad always sang that to me. I always sang it as a kid and I hum it still all the time. I sang the whole thing to my Grandpa while he was sedated 2 days before he died. It always brings tears to my eyes and I can't wait to sing it to my own children too.
ReplyDeleteSending you lots of love and Hugz!
I feel the same. I remember babysitting my niece shortly after my m/c and having a very similar experience. One of my favourite lullabies is actually 'Que Sera, Sera.' I actually bought a neat poster with the words on it for our bedroom. Kind of reminds me to relax and whatever will be will be. I like to think that there will be a babies for all of us.
ReplyDeleteThis post reminds me of the time after my miscarriage that my husband held me and sang "You are my sunshine" on a particularly tough day grief-wise. It was so tender and sweet yet such a sad sad moment.
ReplyDeleteI hope that your heart continues to heal. <3