Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Miscarriage vs. Unchosen

In a way, I used to be grateful I couldn't get pregnant. Because if I couldn't get pregnant, at least I would never have to endure the heartache of a miscarriage. Before we got Josh's results back, I lived in fear that I would find out I was pregnant, only to later miscarry. My periods are never regular, and even though I would remind myself of that, each time I would think "but what if its late this time because I really am pregnant?"

One such period was really late and then when it came it was so bad I was convinced I was miscarrying. It was so horrible. I won't share the details because they are kind of gross, but it seemed so real. One thing I need to learn is that my periods are never on time, never normal and most defiantly never the same.

That is why, in its own way, Josh's results were somewhat of a relief. I have never been pregnant which means I have never miscarried. I used to pray and thank God that I couldn't miscarry. I couldn't get pregnant, but at least I would never have to mourn the loss of a child through miscarriage.

Then I realized, I was an expectant mother and I lost a baby. I know its not the same as a miscarriage, but it feels like it to me. There was a baby that was going to become a part of our family. We had a name picked out and we were just starting to pick out nursery items when we lost our baby. So many hopes and dreams were finally coming true.

Its so hard to loose a baby. It hurts so much. After so many years of waiting we were finally living the joy of expectant parenthood. My husband told me daily that I was glowing and I knew he was right because he was glowing too. I learned that expecting a baby is the highest of high, head in the clouds, kind of happiness. And losing a baby is the lowest and deepest hurt of all hurts.

One of the hardest parts of a miscarriage is the silent mourning. No one seems to understand just how hard it is. They try to reason that there wasn't actually a baby so how can there be a loss. That is something which haunts me the most. I lost a baby! Couldn't some of the closest people in my life acknowledge my loss and how hard it was on me? Their feelings seem to be "just get pregnant again" or "just get back out there and try to adopt again."

It was so hard to mourn because I didn't have some thing physical to direct my grief towards, like a funeral and a monument like mourners have when they loose a loved one to death. But it was so real. I loved that little baby. I had no control to keep her in my life. And there is no way to replace that specific baby. If your husband dies, you don't just go out and marry the first man you meet so you can replace him. Even if you find another man, fall in love and get married, it doesn't replace the your first husband. It is the same when it comes to a miscarriage. You can't just have another baby, that doesn't replace the one you loss. You could have 10 babies, but they all still couldn't replace the loss of the one you lost. There is a hole that will never fully heal in my heart because of my loss.

Now each time I hear of a friend miscarrying, my heart cries out in anguish, because I know how real that loss is, how much it hurts, how devastating it feels. When I try to find the right words of comfort, I realize, there are no words that can be said to make this all better. But I still try because I have to. I have to let them know how I hate that it happened to them and how unfair it seems. I have to let them know I love them and care for them.

Miscarriages are real. And loosing a baby is so painful, so hard.


  1. Thanks for your comments!!! I have had 3 miscarriages and yes I believe you experienced every emotion I did with loosing your baby through adoption. Thanks for reminding me of that.

  2. I'm so sorry about your loss. Infertility really sucks and it seems adoption is just as heartbreaking. :(

    My friend Sara has been through many years of infertility, a failed adoption (they had the baby in their home for about a month) and finally a successful adoption. She's a real inspiration to me of a woman who can go through the worst and still be a support to those around her. Her blog is isaacsara.blogspot.com if you would like to read her story. She's very open if you'd ever like to email her about it.

  3. I think it sounds just like a miscarriage. I think part of the problem is that to other people the baby didn't really exist. For you and Josh it did. That baby was very real to you. I think you should mourn it just like women do who have a miscarriage. You know it still hurts them because they still talk about having one 20 years afterwards. Maybe it would help if you guys did something like planted a tree or put up a mini monument in honor of "What could have been."