Baby Steps

Today is June 7. It's been 42 days, give or take, since I had a miscarriage. I wasn't that far along, somewhere between 4 and 8 weeks, so I figured I didn't need that much time to mourn. I was wrong.

This morning, I was lazing about on the couch, surfing the web and half watching Scrubs. In the episode, a couple found out they were pregnant. And they were adorably excited.

Then, out of nowhere, I was crying. I started thinking about how far along I'd be now. How his or her heart would be beating up a storm, and I'd be close to feeling those kicks. We may even have had the ugly wood panels down and the soon-to-be-nursery painted. My morning sickness would probably have started to subside, and I'd be ecstatic.

But instead, I was crying. And my husband, Chris, was blindsided when I said he was clueless for not getting why I was upset. Hadn't he seen the TV show too? Didn't he care that we'd lost our baby? He had no idea what was going on. He figured that when I told him a few weeks ago I was ok with the miscarriage, that I must really be ok. He thought that because I'm happy and full of joy most of the time (I'm known to wake up singing and fall asleep laughing), I've moved on. Makes sense, doesn't it?

Except, I've learned, grieving doesn't always happen all at once. And because I felt I didn't have much of a right to mourn, given I'd only known about the pregnancy for a few days, I didn't allow myself to really heal. I talked about it a little. I learned that nearly all of my friends and coworkers had been through this themselves. And I moved on with my life as if everything was wonderful and this had obviously happened for a reason. I didn't really want my child to have to suffer through a Christmas birthday anyway. March or April would be much more fun.

And, honestly, I was nearly over it. That is, until I found out our cousin is expecting a baby that is due on the same day ours would likely have been. And though I'm happy for her, it hurts to know that our baby died, while hers, it seems, is going to be ok. I'm a bit envious, and I am not looking forward to all of the updates and the birth announcement. I feel selfish for this, but at the same time, I feel justified in being sad.

I guess my point for this blog is twofold. First, I think it's important that people talk about things like this and allow themselves time to mourn - regardless whether they feel they deserve it or not. And second, I want Chris (and everyone else) to know that I'm ok most of the time, but sometimes, I just want to cry. Sometimes, I want to think about what might have been, and I want to be sad. I need that. And I hope he'll understand next time I tell him, out of the blue, that he's insensitive.

I'd also like to say, to our tiny little baby, never bigger than a raspberry, you stole my heart. I love you, and I will never forget you.