Monthly Archives: July 2014

Standing Still

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Seriously, have you ever met a motherless woman who wasn’t completely insane? Think of a woman who doesn’t have a child. She’s not normal and you know it. I think this process makes us crazy.

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Today is a particularly difficult day. I don’t know why. There’s no good reason. I’ve taken an anxiety pill. I’m trying to relax. One huge fault/problem that I have is that I can’t relax. The thought of trying to relax absolutely terrifies me and send me into a fit of panic. I have the day off work, and I have nothing planned for the day. Normally, days are packed with errands and to-do’s for the day. Today I have nothing. I’m at my worst when I’m alone left to my own devices. My mind wanders and it’s not long before I’m trying to talk myself out of hysteria.

I struggle daily with the losses. Reading the blogs does not help. The same stories. The same sad story of hope, loss, and helplessness is heartbreaking. The cyclical defeat is gut-wrenching. Some of you are pregnant. Some of you are pregnant and have lost your baby and are waiting for the miscarriage to start. Some of you are in your TWW. Some of you are sitting there more depressed than you’ve ever been. I feel your heartache. I wish I could take your pain away. I wish I could elevate that burden. I wish I could put your baby in your arms and give you that miracle.

I feel like everyone’s lives are continuing on around me, and I’m standing still. I’m standing still in a flurry of activities that surround me. Babies turning into toddlers, who turn into little people with personalities and passions. Friends’ schedules filling with their children’s activities of girl scouts, soccer practice and training bras. Cousin’s with children who will start driving soon. Friends whose first child just graduated high school. And I’m standing still. Standing still with my head spinning and my heart aching.

Ever since decided to go forward with the second septum surgery, I’ve been thinking about canceling it. Right now we’re 4 and a half weeks from the surgery date and I’m terrified. Terrified of dying on the table if she cuts the main artery that she saw the first time. Terrified of the pain. Terrified of it not working. Terrified of getting pregnant a fifth time and losing that baby. Terrified of carrying the baby longer than I ever have ever carried a baby and losing it further along. I wanted to have the surgery so that I could say, “I did everything I could.” But now, I don’t know. Can I handle another loss? Can I put myself through the again?

Where this will go, I don’t know. The ache from my first loss is so fresh and real. That was over 11 years ago. This doesn’t get any easier. The grief consumes me. I hold onto the pain. I cradle and coddle it. I protect my pain because it’s all I have left of my babies. I keep it too close to the surface. The smart and sane thing to do would be to bury the feelings. Put them in the coffin I never got to put my babies in and bury it deep below the surface. I should let it go. Fear and shame are running my life and I have to stop this. I feel depressed and scared that I will never be a mother and that my husband will never get to be a father. I’m sad for us.

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