It's Okay To Be Sad

Well, we had our cerclage placed on 2/12/14 for our rainbow baby. Like most things I've experienced throughout this journey of grief, I couldn't have anticipated the varying emotions I felt. It all happened in a relatively short time period; we saw our doctor on Friday the 8th, were told we'd do the cerclage the next week, waited and waited for the phone call telling us what day, and then there we were, all set to go on that Tuesday morning. I was also working a LOT because of the upcoming Valentine's Day holiday, which for florists is THE big day of the year, with about three weeks of prep work involved. So until that Tuesday morning, I hadn't really had time to stop and process what was going to happen and how I was feeling about the whole thing. And then there I was, in the shower, crying. The tears were laced with joy, guilt, fear, sadness, hope, regret...The thing is, people expect you to be "okay" when you have another baby on the way after you've experienced a loss. It's like a band-aid, that the wound should be covered up now and healing or healed. Every person and every situation is different, but I know that for me, the wound is fresh again. I know I grieved for Hunter in the minutes, hours, days, weeks, months since his passing before we became pregnant again. It was deep, all consuming, and at times, it was dark. I went through the motions, and I think I did a pretty good job of giving myself permission to feel whatever I was feeling. I didn't try to push away the grief, or ignore it. I gave myself over to it and I think handled it all as best I could. I had gotten to the point where I didn't cry every day. In fact, I remember the first time I realized that I had gone a full day without shedding a single tear. Of course, then I felt guilty because I felt like a bad mom, but I knew that was not a logical way of thinking. Then we found out we were pregnant again. We weren't really actively trying to conceive, but I knew well before that positive pregnancy test that I was expecting. When I did finally see the word "pregnant" displayed on the test, I couldn't breathe. I told my husband and then took a shower, where I wept under the hot water. I was scared. I wanted to be excited, and part of me was, but there was a really big part of me just didn't feel ready for this. Hunter was my first pregnancy, my first child. We didn't get to bring him home, we placed him in a little blue box and buried him. I don't know what it's like to have a pregnancy go full-term, to give birth to a crying, healthy baby. Because of our experience, pregnancy isn't directly associated with joy the way it is for the majority of family's who have had the chance to bring their little ones home and raise them. That's not to say that I'm not excited and happy that we're having another child. I am. But I am cautiously so. As the weeks creep closer and closer to the gestation when I gave birth to Hunter, I can feel the anxiety mounting. I am fearful of the cerclage failing. I'm afraid of going to an appointment and there not being a heartbeat. I'm simply terrified of losing another baby. I have faith, but that faith isn't in what I desire, I have faith that whatever God has planned for us will come to pass. And that includes the possibility that this baby will be called home like Hunter was. I'm not going to lie to you, it is exhausting going through a pregnancy like this. I ask God all the time to ease my fears, to ease my anxiety. Sometimes He does, and sometimes He doesn't. I only fear so much because I love so much. I love my baby's more than life. And I really feel like I will be able to bring this baby home. I just live in a reality where there is no guarantee. Cerclage's fail, it's a fact. But I'm thankful to know that I'm doing all I can to keep my baby safe inside me, until it's safe for him or her to arrive. I wish I could have done as much for my Hunter. The further along I get, the more I feel his loss. Feeling this baby start to move, that lovely little fluttering, just brings back so many feelings and memories. And as this pregnancy progresses, I realize how little time I really did have with him. I feel guilty because I feel so robbed, when I know I should mostly feel blessed. I am into my second pregnancy and I know so many good people who pray daily for the chance to conceive. I do know how lucky I am. But that doesn't diminish the sorrow that comes with not being able to see your child grow. I'm trying to savor every moment with this baby, even the morning/all day sickness, and heartburn. But try as I might to focus on the here and now, my Hunter is always present in my mind as well. Remembering my pregnancy with him as I experience this pregnancy. Comparing, and contrasting. And as this baby grows and grows, I will wonder what it would have been like with Hunter. When this baby is born, and I hear that first cry, I will be filled with so much happiness, but also a voice will say "I wonder if that's what Hunter would have sounded like." And it will go on that way until my dying day. I know that probably sounds over dramatic, but I know it's true. Every milestone my other children reach will bring pride and wonderment for them, and longing and sorrow for the milestones we missed with Hunter. I think part of the process of grieving is realizing that you won't ever truly stop. Especially when it's your child. I love my children, and I acknowledge to the universe how lucky I am. I often think of "It's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all." That's how I feel about my babies. I wouldn't trade any of this. I've never known a greater heartache, but I've also never known such profound love. Part of me resides in heaven, and that's a pretty big blessing in and of itself.