On the 20th of September I completed a 9km fun run in honour of our Zoe. I was humbled by the support I received both from the amazing mums that ran with me and from our beautiful friends and family who sponsored us. As a team, we raised over $3000 for Bears of Hope. These funds, along with the funds raised by other runners that day, will be put towards a miscarriage support workshop.
What only a few people knew was that as I was running, I was carrying another beautiful life with me. I was 6 weeks pregnant with what we hoped would be our second earth baby. Sadly, in a slightly ironic twist of fate, I lost the baby at 10 weeks.
We had felt as though everything was looking positive. At 6 weeks we had a dating scan and saw our little one’s heartbeat flickering away. But at my 10 week check up, as I peered into the ultrasound screen, I knew. I was praying and hoping to see some flicker of life. But I knew what I was seeing. There was no heartbeat. That beautiful heartbeat that we had seen just weeks earlier had gone. We were again facing the ache of loss.
And so the inevitable question came. Why us? What have we done to deserve this?
The answer I have come to is, why not us? Why when so many couples struggle with building their family should we be exempt?
The sad part about it is we are just getting used to it now. We know the drill.
I find fighting grief is futile. You can’t go around it, you can’t go over it, can’t go under it, you just have to go through it. This time, I really found that thought exhausting. I know how it feels, I know that it gets worse before it gets better, I know that I will always carry this with me. The emptiness weighed heavy on me. I didn’t feel like I had the energy to get through what lay ahead of me. Apart from what I knew, there was also the added challenge of facing a D&C, a procedure that was new to our repertoire of loss.
Thankfully, what I do have is a beautiful support network. Other angel mums that are open, honest and willing to share their experiences. I was able to draw on their experience to start to feel like I could make it through.
And so I entered into it with a plan. A plan to feel sad, to feel angry, to feel tired. I armed myself with self care activities, some gardening, some trashy TV, some colouring in. Did the plan help? Maybe. It helped me to feel like I was owning the journey. I still felt, and continue to feel sad but I’m owning it. I can’t expect to feel any different. All I know is that there is no sense fighting it or pretending it is ok because that will only prolong it, and with that comes other problems. Despite the grief, and despite the pain, it just is. It would be easy to blame, easy to rage. But there is nothing and no one to blame. This is just our journey.
One thought that I do keep having is around the notion of our family being “finished”. For me, I know ours is not. I sometimes wish it was. That would mean not having to put ourselves out there again to risk being hurt. But nothing worthwhile is without risk. We will try again. We will try until we have another baby safe in our arms.
This tiny life that was to complete our family, wasn’t to be. They have made way for another little person to join us here on earth when the time is right. In time, I will understand why and I will be grateful. I know now that I wouldn’t change my past losses because they wouldn’t have led me to Magoo. This loss will be no different. But for now, it just hurts. I wanted you, oh how I wanted you.