Yesterday marked a year since my D&E. A whole year. In some ways it feels like it was just yesterday. I can still feel the emotional pain that came with the entire experience to this day. However it also feels like a million years ago. It changed me so much, made me realize more about myself than I’ve ever realized before, helped me to grow up even more than I already had. I’m not the same girl I was then. Not at all.
I was always the super independent girl who didn’t want to, or need to rely on anyone ever. At least that’s what I thought. I learned that just because you feel pain and you are able to find comfort in someone else doesn’t make you weak. In some ways being willing to allow yourself go for just a little bit and hand the reins over to someone else l, to show trust, is actually a form of strength. It took a lot for me to be able to do that and I still can’t do it with just anyone but I can with S. Partly because of who he is and a bond we have that I can’t explain and partly because he proved to me during the miscarriage that could.
Speaking of, our relationship is one of the things that grew. We had barely been together and I told him I was pregnant and he didn’t run. I didn’t run. Me not running from a huge commitment was a big deal but I expected him to. He didn’t even think twice about staying. Then came the loss. Some people who’ve been together many more years than we had can’t make it through something as difficult as that. While I felt like I, and my body, had let him down he never once thought that and he made sure I knew it, even if I did second guess it at times. He didn’t run then. He’s stuck by my side through all of it. I’ve never met anyone who would have done that for me before. We’re stronger because of those struggles.
I think they also helped prove to my family and friends that I wasn’t crazy just jumping head first into this brand new relationship and deciding to keep a baby. You can tell someone a million times that you know this relationship is different, but they won’t really believe it until they see it. I don’t know how they saw it, I think part of it was be letting my guard down and trust in someone or maybe it was me saying I love you (though that still didn’t come until a month or longer after the D&E even though I knew I did. Those trust issues make it hard to verbalize the words, even if they are true.) I had never said it to anyone before and always said I doubted I would ever find someone I felt comfortable saying it too. I did though.
Speaking of love, I learned you can also fall head over heels into unconditional love with a tiny little being you’ve never met or felt. You will never feel a love like that for anything else, at least I can’t imagine I will. It’s the same love I feel for this little being kicking around in me as I write. I hear it gets even deeper when you finally meet them but I don’t know. I guess I’ll find out soon.
With that though came a grief I had never felt before when I lost him/her. I am not one to grieve much when it comes to death. I’ve been around it, I’ve had loved ones die but to me it’s a part of life. A part of the big circle. Sure I felt sad about that loss of these people and even cried but it didn’t feel anything like the pain I felt when I lost my little one, even if it was only 6 weeks along. I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that I couldn’t keep him safe or protect him in the one place where he should be the safest. I know it isn’t my fault and that it was likely a chromosomal issue but I can’t help but place fault on myself. Especially now knowing my cervix is also shit, not that that’s related in any way either. It’s just another thing to add to the list.
Anyway I’m sure I could add a million more things to the list of how I’ve changed and how I’ve learned from my loss. How it has braces me for this pregnancy, and how it has made me irrationally fearful for it at times. How it helped me to learn my own body better than anything else I know. How it taught me that you can feel lonely even when you’re surrounded by people and support. How it can teach you that there are unfortunately ao many more people out there who know what you’re going through. People you never would have expected because it isn’t talked about. People who’ve gone through so many more losses than you and yet haven’t given up on trying. It’s amazing and so completely sad and overwhelming at the same time. I could list so many more thing a but then this post would turn into a book.
Yesterday I spent my day combing through this list and thinking about the baby I will never hold but I also realize how very lucky I am. There are some women who can’t even get pregnant and I am carrying a second little one as we speak. One who will have made it to a nice landmark come tomorrow at 28 weeks. One I will hopefully be able to hold in my arms, love, and dote on. So while I missed my baby yesterday I also appreciated what I do have right now. I have a healthy little wiggle worm in my belly, a man I love and know I will marry one day, a house, a job, and we can feed ourselves. I’ve experienced great loss and I think about and miss that baby every day but I things could be worse, much worse, and they aren’t. For that, at this moment right now, I am thankful.