is almost over and as sad as I am to say it, I’m relieved. I’m relieved we’re back from vacation, back from being away from our little girl for a whole week, relieved to be going back into normal life and relieved Mother’s Day has (just about… 3 hrs to go) come and gone. I’ve hit a road block in my grieving process and knowing that this day was right around the corner wasn’t helping any.
Having Lucy has brought me the greatest joy and being a mother is my most important role, so of course I appreciate a day celebrating moms. Any recognition we can get is welcome 🙂 And more than that, I love that it’s a day to spoil and love on my own mom; she’s so deserving and so under appreciated. Typically Mother’s Day is a wonderful day, and this time last year I was embracing every bit of it and taking advantage of all the day had to offer to a new mama.
This year is different. This year it’s a reminder that I’m a mom to 2 babies, one of which isn’t with me. The feeling of loss is always present but I’m mostly able to compose myself because life is busy and Lucy keeps me on my toes. On a day like today though where I’m inundated with Happy Mother’s Day posts (as it should be), it’s so much harder to keep the smile on. What upsets me is most of my social media world (is that a thing??) doesn’t even know this second little one existed, or the sort of pain Geo and I recently endured. Sure I write about it here but very few people read this little blog, and those that do don’t even know who I am (for the most part).
I want people to know about this baby of ours, and that he or she is forever a part of our family but there are two things that keep stopping me from sharing about it on social media, they are: 1. I don’t want people to feel pity for us and 2. It feels too sacred to share. It’s such a personal and meaningful experience in our lives, it was our baby, and simply “posting” about it just doesn’t feel right, or at least not right now. I want people to know about this baby of ours, this perfect little human, but I suppose I’m just not ready yet.
Anyways, it’s been a long day and I’m just so happy I’m a mom. It’s the greatest gift I’ve been given in my life and although the pain of our recent loss is feeling very heavy right now, I also know I’m very lucky to have a healthy baby girl in the room next door. Feeling for all those mamas who don’t.
Grateful: For the toothy grins and belly laughs Lucy was full of today 🙂
I could be having more fun right now. Geo and I are on vacation in California by ourselves for a WHOLE week. Yep, no Lucy. My wonderful MIL offered to watch Lucy so Geo and I could enjoy a week of travel without the hassles and inconveniences of toting a toddler around (something we did A LOT of while living in Europe last year). We both have been looking forward to this trip so much but now that we’re here there’s something that isn’t clicking fore me. I can’t seem to quite transition into vaca mode.
Without the distractions of life, (work, Lucy, family, etc) I keep thinking about our little one who isn’t with us anymore. At the risk of sounding callous, I wish I could just turn it off. The sadness of it is always right there. Right at the surface and the barrier, or thing that keeps me from crying all the time is the business of life and now that barrier isn’t there. Don’t get me wrong, we have seen so much the last couple days and have had a wonderful time with our hosts but the sight of a pregnant woman, a baby, yesterday being Sunday (the day we measured this last pregnancy with – I would have been 18 weeks), or when I’m not thinking of anything, I always seem to go back to the loss. It’s just always there and I’d really like to turn it off for the next 5 days.
So if you’ve had a similar loss, I’d really love to hear any tips you may have for a struggling mama like me.
Grateful: For having the opportunity to be here with Geo. I know so many couples in our shoes would love the ability to go away without the kiddo(s) for a week so I really do appreciate how thoughtful and giving our family members are.
sucks. But wanna know what makes it even worse? Being the parents who made the decision to “lose” that baby. After having a miscarriage at 6 weeks (this past fall), the last thing I thought I’d ever wish for was another one. But sure enough I found myself hoping our baby would pass away inside of me, in the most natural way possible. From that Monday (when we found out) to Thursday (when I had the procedure) every time I felt a cramp or something a little “off” I prayed it was nature taking its course, and some higher power preventing me from ending our little one’s life. How insane does that sound?
Between my hormones and grief, it’s been a difficult week. These are the things that seem to make me most sad:
- The fact that I chose not to hold our baby. I asked the nurse (who was incredibly sincere and kind during this process) to make that decision for me. In the end she said it was best that I didn’t but now I wish I had. I think our baby deserved that.
- The fact that I held a newborn yesterday and instead of being thrilled for my sweet friends, I felt sad for my own loss.
- The fact that a future pregnancy will be met with excitement but also fear.
- The fact that our baby’s ashes are in our bedroom… and I’m not sure what to do with them. Originally I wanted to bury them under a tree in our yard but now I can’t seem to part with the little box. Certainly a “problem” I didn’t think I’d ever be dealing with.
- The fact that being at my in-laws house seems to be a trigger for me. We spent the majority of our time there when finding out about the baby and dealing with the appointments and logistics of it all. My MIL was watching Lucy because my parents were at a family member’s funeral. So now each time I’ve walked into their house since then I start to feel myself getting emotional.
- The fact that I didn’t mourn my sweet cousin who passed the week prior because, for me, it was overshadowed by my own baby’s passing.
- The fact that I would be 16 weeks pregnant now if we’d chosen to keep the pregnancy going.
- The fact that I ended our little one’s life. Yes, I did it because the outcome would have been the same and no doctor could tell me with 100% certainty that this baby wouldn’t have felt pain and/or discomfort for the remainder of the pregnancy (I couldn’t live knowing he/she could have been in pain), but at the end of the day I still ended it. That’s something I have to live with and yikes, it’s not an easy pill to swallow, nor should it be.
We made the only decision we felt we had, but it was still a very, very shitty one. Hoping it all gets a little easier to cope with sooner than later.
Grateful: For Lucy’s adorable waddle/walk. I honestly feel like I could just stare at her for days.
where to start. For the past three weeks I’ve thought about writing this post yet every time I sit down to write I’m at a loss for what to say.
There’s no delicate way to share that after finding out your unborn baby has a terminal birth defect you and your husband decide, at 13 weeks, to end the pregnancy.
We found out the news about our baby on a Monday and I had the procedure that following Thursday. The time from that first ultrasound to the procedure life just stopped for us. There was nothing else that mattered. The pain was almost unbearable. I don’t know how we would have gotten through it without Lucy. She was what carried us through that week. She was our only source of happiness and hope.
Since the procedure life has gone on. Between running my business, working with my mom to launch a new one and caring for a 1 year old, the hours never seem like enough and I am scurrying throughout the day trying to fit it all in. It’s the nights, when I get into bed and see our baby’s beautiful footprints on my nightstand that I’m reminded I just recently had a baby inside me, one that should still be there but isn’t. It all feels very unfair. For Geo and I, for Lucy, for my loved ones and most of all, for this baby that was so little but already so loved.
I’ve struggled with whether I wanted to share this online or not. I’ve truly gone back and fourth, but what kept bringing me back to this space is my desire to honor this baby. I want people to know I think of myself as a mother of two babies; the one who after a very busy day of practicing walking is peacefully sleeping in her crib, and the baby who I know will always look over that sleeping baby and who someday I’ll get to meet. This baby meant so much to George and I. This baby deserves to be acknowledged and that’s why I’m overlooking my fear of being judged or ridiculed for sharing such personal information because if I don’t, it’s as if it didn’t happen, and it did.
These are just the most perfect little feet I’ve ever seen.