It’s been a long week. Many tears. Many. Many. Many. On Monday this week, I passed a miscarried baby. It was the most unexpected emotional event I’ve had in quite some time.
I felt so guilty. I felt so alone. I felt so humbled.
Not everyone gets to miscarry a baby and see the whole thing. The little babe came out complete in his little amniotic sac. I found the bravery to open the sac thanks to google. Inside there was a tiny little body. Little hands. Little legs. Little black spots for eyes. A forming face. A spine.
I hadn’t wanted to be pregnant. I had struggled for weeks, wondering how I would tell the world, when I didn’t feel ready to tell the world. In the shower, I had cried and cried feeling betrayed to “have” to carry this baby.
Then here he was, in my hands. And I wasn’t taken aback by his lifelessness. I was taken aback by his life.
That little one, didn’t matter what I thought, was just doing what he could do. Just going right along, forming there, despite my feelings.
And I felt so guilty. I felt so alone. I felt so humbled.
I told that little one I was sorry. I prayed to God to forgive my selfishness. I took the moment in as far as I could. Because what I didn’t realize in those tears I cried in the shower, was the loss I would feel once he was gone.
And it’s okay. Now that its over.
Well, no it’s not. Today my midwife sent me vitamins to help regain strength during this healing time. And I cried again. I didn’t think I would, but it just came again. Because I was affected. Because it is a loss. And it’s okay to recognize it as such.
But it is okay. Because through the hard times, we realize our hearts. We allow those things to shape us. And I think of the little one who I never took the time to look forward to, and I know that next time around…if I’m blessed with a next time around…I’ll take in those beginning moments a little bit more. And be a little more grateful for things out of my control. And love the moment.
Remind me, to love the moment.