Hello and welcome to my debbie downer corner of the internet. Want to know why I hate this time of year? Pull up a chair. Let me share. (Or click x and escape the sadness.)
November 15: The due date for my first miscarriage. A tiny, small part of me still thinks “I’d have a four year old.” Even though I have a three year old I am smitten with and who would not exist if had had this first baby. It was a bump on the road to getting Theo.
November 16: The day I couldn’t find a heartbeat on my doppler at 20 weeks 3 days pregnant. The day my anxiety kept me from sleeping. I went in to the midwife after Mike called her, angry they weren’t doing more for this pregnancy and for my trauma. I was texting Mike as he took a bus from work to the midwife. The texts would be heartbreaking to read now. I cry just thinking about them.
The day Theo lay beside me on the exam table while the midwife searched for a heartbeat. The day my boys squished together in a chair in the ultrasound room as the ultrasound tech silently pushed the probe on my belly. The day the midwife shook her head and said, “I can’t believe it. There’s no heartbeat.” The day we left the midwife’s office for the last time and I was equal parts rage and devastation.
The day I learned that lightening can strike twice and that experiencing a tragedy doesn’t protect you from future tragedy. The day my heart was hardened just a bit, but opened to connecting with more human suffering and the reality of humanity. (Not to sound overly dramatic or anything).
November 20 (today): The day I was induced and delivered our tiny, perfect baby. The delivery and birth was scary since I had an incredibly high fever. They pumped me full of IV antibiotics and I was delirious. I was almost afraid my kids would lose their mom the same day I lost my baby. The day I held my baby for the first and last time.
November 27: The start of my pregnancy with Clare. Should be a happy date, not a wistful one. How have two years gone by?
(There is one happy date this month – November 21 was the start of my pregnancy with Gabe. I was at the SOA Protest with a bunch of high schoolers. Happy memories there.)
(And I want to talk about The Election last year and how that affected my mood but that’s another story for another day.)
There are no possible words I can offer that would be helpful, but I thought it was important to say you’re in my thoughts. It’s important to have grief acknowledged, and even though there is zero I can do, I read all the way through this as a way to recognize and honor your grief. My thoughts are with you and your family. XO
Sometimes the only goal is to get through it. As in, wait out the shitty days and just survive them. (That’s how I felt for the big “firsts” after my mom died. Goal: get through it.) There’s always time later to honor/learn/feel/soften/etc.
I don’t blame you for hating November. I would too.
My heart aches for and with you. Reading this I’m instantly back to our texts and the tears of rage for you in my eyes as I frantically searched for the “perfect” comforting care package gifts to send knowing nothing could buy your pain away, but hoping somehow it would at least help you feel less alone. I hate that this is part of your story, and wish so much I could make it not true. You are so strong (I know you didn’t really get the choice) and I’m proud of you as a friend, woman and mother for trudging through this and continuing to be the great mom you are to Gabe & Theo. Sending many hugs and prayers for peace.