It’s October 15th- Wave of Light. It’s the 5th year I’ve participated and I’ve always found it to be very healing to reflect, mourn, and also give thanks for miracles.
This year has been amazing and my heart has been healed in more ways than I can explain. At some point you have to let go of your loss more than you had allowed yourself in years past. To get through the day to day. But it doesn't just go away. It never goes away.
I look forward to this day of memorial because it's the one day a year I give myself permission to feel completely devastated. And say “This is really unfair. It’s so unfair that this happened.” It’s still shocking to me when someone is 6 weeks pregnant and buying baby items, making plans- like, they are just confident their baby will live. Kevin and I have discussed how stunned that makes us feel- ignorance is bliss. Our reality still hurts. Many times I block out memories of particular days because the pain is still so rich and deep.
Some treat miscarriage as the loss of a potential person instead of the loss of an individual person. But I saw Aidia when she was just a "fetal pole" with the tiniest heartbeat. All of us start out the same way, in that fragile category. “Normal fetal pole with a heart rate of 129 beats per minute,” the radiologist recorded, “Crown-rump length: 6 mm.” She could have so easily turned into "loss number 7." After all, when I saw her it was Mother’s Day, and I was in the hospital, bleeding. With my history, being diagnosed with a “threatened miscarriage” didn’t provide much hope. But because she miraculously pulled through, I was blessed to know her. Just as I wish I could have known the others who didn't make it.
I just use this to illustrate the point of what is truly lost when our little ones perish so early on in their existence. So why does society tell us to hide our devastation? It's true at times I've told myself my losses would have been more real if they happened at 8 or 9 weeks instead of 5 or 6. I've been embarrassed of how traumatic they were for me.
I read an article recently that spoke of early losses and the way they are discussed in the healthcare setting. He said:
"This language change seems to be out of an effort to decrease a patient's feeling of loss, leading the woman to believe that this pregnancy was somehow “less” of a pregnancy... But to me it sounds like the old line about being just “a little pregnant,” as though it were possible. Sadly, this is no joke, and the language change doesn't stop many women from experiencing the loss just as real as any other miscarriage or lost child."
It's tempting to be frustrated that Aidia cries crocodile tears and produces piercing screams when I try to set her down. It can be exhausting to have a baby in tow 24/7. And then I think- if she wasn't so clingy she never would have made it here. I needed a clingy baby. My rainbow after 6 consecutive losses. She held on tight to me and hasn't stopped.
She is everything I dreamed of. I love her more than I could put into words and I'm glad she loves me as fiercely. We both had to work and fight together to bring her into this world. That kind of bond is distinct and beautiful. And it gives me life and sunshine every day.
I read an article recently that spoke of early losses and the way they are discussed in the healthcare setting. He said:
"This language change seems to be out of an effort to decrease a patient's feeling of loss, leading the woman to believe that this pregnancy was somehow “less” of a pregnancy... But to me it sounds like the old line about being just “a little pregnant,” as though it were possible. Sadly, this is no joke, and the language change doesn't stop many women from experiencing the loss just as real as any other miscarriage or lost child."
It's tempting to be frustrated that Aidia cries crocodile tears and produces piercing screams when I try to set her down. It can be exhausting to have a baby in tow 24/7. And then I think- if she wasn't so clingy she never would have made it here. I needed a clingy baby. My rainbow after 6 consecutive losses. She held on tight to me and hasn't stopped.
She is everything I dreamed of. I love her more than I could put into words and I'm glad she loves me as fiercely. We both had to work and fight together to bring her into this world. That kind of bond is distinct and beautiful. And it gives me life and sunshine every day.
