My hardest goodbye: A story of miscarriage and heartbreak

2017-09-28T17:05:40+00:00

My Hardest Goodbye: A story of miscarriage and heartbreak

There is a country song I’ve heard on the radio from time to time that’s called ‘beer with Jesus.’ It’s a very heartwarming song and even a bit of a tear-jerker depending on your frame of mind: A guy singing about what he would ask Jesus if given the opportunity, such as what life is like on the other side, how his family members that have passed on are doing, etc etc.

I am not particularly religious but I wouldn’t turn down the opportunity for a one to one myself. In fact, I would probably bypass the son and speak directly to the big guy himself.

And, of course, I would want to know how my relatives are getting on, but I would also have a ton of other questions for him.

Like, what’s the deal with unnecessary crime, violence and murders?

What about war? Famine? Terminal illness? Can’t he put a stop to that?

More to the point, why allow healthy women with good hearts and souls, a lot of love to give and a yearning for motherhood – be it their first, second or even fifth time – to get pregnant and then take the baby away from them? Why do that?

Last Tuesday was the worst day of my life.

We were almost at that ‘safe’ stage and had even had discussions as to how cryptically we were going to reveal the news to friends on social media in a few weeks’ time {we waited until 20 weeks first time round – I am a cautious individual that doesn’t like to tempt fate}.

I wasn’t stressed like I was the first time round either, as I didn’t have much time to focus on anything other than the chaotic world of a toddler. Though baby did, of course, get my undivided attention at night and during nap times, or whenever I could catch the briefest moment of peace.

After years of issues, to get pregnant once – even with medical intervention – was a miracle. To get pregnant a second time was a true blessing. But to reach 13 weeks only to discover that the blessing had been taken from you a couple of weeks before… it honestly feels like someone is taking the piss.

I had gone into the whole thing with my eyes wide open to the fact that treatment may not work second time around… I didn’t believe we could be that lucky. But we were. Or so we thought.

And now? Well, I do still feel extremely blessed. I have a beautiful, feisty and characterful toddler who fills my heart with joy (and frustration) each and every day. And she keeps me focused and busy.

Now though, I dread nighttime and nap time, when I lose my focus and allow my heart to break for the fact that my gorgeous girl won’t be the fabulous big sister I knew she would be. And for the emptiness and loss that I feel inside. Plus, I face the guilt, even though I know I hadn’t done anything to cause the loss.

We have one last shot and maybe one day {in the not too distant future – I am getting old} we will take it. But how do you reconcile yourself to the fact that you may have to face the same trauma again? Do you, instead, count your blessings and accept that you will only ever have the child or children you already have?

And what happens to the emptiness you feel? Or the heartache? Does it ease? If we knew that being – or wanting to be – a parent could hurt so much, would any of us ever do it in the first place?

And how do you ever learn to deal with the bills that keep arriving – for all treatment undergone to get you pregnant and because of the loss – when you have nothing to show for it other than an aching heart?

I know I have to look forward – it is important for all of us. Our daughter needs us. We are lucky in many ways and I understand that I am more fortunate than a lot of other people out there: despite all the stress and upset endured for over a decade, I was eventually fortunate enough to have a child.

But once peace, quiet or nighttime descends, I can’t help but think about the void in my mummy tummy and what might have been: If life wasn’t so darned cruel, we’d have been a family of four by Christmas.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jo Ensby - headshotJo Ensby is a Hoosier in training imported from the UK.

She hates the frazzling summer heat and perishing winter cold of the Midwest but loves the lack of constant rain and the opportunities that Stateside living brings.

She works ‘as little as possible’ and prefers to spend her time having adventures and making memories with her British hubby and American baby and dog.

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