Monday, April 13, 2015

Special Secret / Secret Sorrow


**NOTE - I wrote this the day I found out I was pregnant with Rowan, but I just didn't have the courage to post. However, I wish I had posted it back then and it's still a good read.**

Knowing your pregnant can be a special secret that only you and maybe the father know. It's fun knowing something is growing in you. As soon as you see that little positive sign on that test you start to wonder. Are you a boy or girl? Will you have brown eye like me or blue like your dad? Will you have those adorable dimples like your sister? Will you have brown hair or blonde?  What will your first word be?  

As a mom I already dream about skinned knees you'll have. I think of all the fun you'll have with your cousins. How cute you'll look with your sister in pictures and how she will whine that you've stolen her toys. How you will hit her and she will tell you "Use your feeling words, don't bite." How she will show you off one minute and can't stand you the next. Knowing full well you'll do the same to her. I think of how much fun you'll have with your cousins.

I know full well of the sleepless nights, the teething, the fevers, the coughs. You'll spit-up on my clothes three minutes to heading out the door. You'll go though diapers faster than I think it's possible for such a tiny person to be able to do. You'll cry during your baths, because the bottle is to slow, because I'm not cuddling you the right way, because I dared to put you down when you finally get to sleep and I NEED a shower. 

Why do many moms kept it quite until 12 weeks? We've lost a baby ( or 2, or 3) or know that we can lose you. We know that no one else feels the loss the same way mommy does. Daddy can be a close second. We're depressed. Some family or friends may notice. If we're really lucky (and I mean like extremely lucky) we may have a few close friends or sisters who've been in our shoes. They offer the right support. They let you cry. They acknowledge the loss. Those special friends / sisters who avoid saying all those well meaning but horrible at the time sounding things. 

You keep it quite because you don't want to hear...
"Well, you're young" or "You are getting old."
Who cares about my age, I just lost my baby and all those hopes and dreams. Thanks for reminding me of my age it just adds insult to injury.
"You'll have more."
Yes, I'm sure I will. But honestly, getting pregnant again is the furthest thing from my mind right now. 
"I knew a lady who had several miscarriages and she went on to have six kids." 
I'm happy for her, but right now, please recognize my loss. 
"It wasn't around very long. It was hardly the size of a Gold Fish. It didn't even have a personality or a name."
It was going to have a name (for some moms the baby already did have one). But there in lays in my sorrow. I didn't get to spend enough time with my baby. 
"Your baby is in heaven. You'll see them again."
Thanks for thinking they're in heaven. But right now I would rather still be pregnant and holding my baby in 6 or 7 months. Not after I'm dead. 
"Science says that nearly all miscarriages are the result of genetic abnormalities so carrying the baby to term won't happen." 
Thanks for that, I read many studies trying to find out why, why, why on earth I lost my baby. Yet hearing that out loud right now seems cold.

From reading this I bet you think "So I can't say anything right?" Sure you can. Just let us cry a little. Understand that it's the same as losing a family member. I knew a girl that lost her baby. She told us she was crying a little at work and didn't want to go through slew of things I wrote above. So she lied a little and told us that there was a death in her family. People gave condolences, hugs, just that support you give. Treat us like that. Pretend it's our third cousin twice removed if it helps you. 
Trust me, you treating it like our baby was a person outside of us, is all we want. You wouldn't tell someone "Oh, you lost your third cousin twice removed, well you're still young."