I’ve had so much going through my mind for the last few months, so much I wanted to write about and reflect on. But I just couldn’t get it to flow. I’d start to write and something would hold me back. My ideas seemed stupid, or broken so I stopped trying. It’s been 6 months since the second loss. I should be close to the end of my pregnancy now, but I am not. And quite frankly, it sucks. I’m in limbo. Do we ever try again? Can I be content with my two living children?
One aspect of this whole situation that really bothers, pisses me off actually, is that 50% of my pregnancies have ended in loss. For some reason, this makes me ridiculously angry. It seems unfair. I love my children, and I would love any additional children I am bleseed with. But I honestly don’t know if I can handle being pregnant again, or experiencing another loss.
But, here’s the thing. This loss has sparked something else in me. My first loss drove me into fear and depression. I ached for a baby to hold in my arms. But this recent loss, although devastating in its own way, didn’t break my heart into a million pieces. It made me want to use my grief and my experiences to help other people. Specifically, I want to support women who are my sisters in loss.
I feel driven to help, to listen, to hold their hands as they walk down a path that is horribly unkind. I have a passion for helping these families who will forever be changed. So I’m going to take the steps to make this a reality. I’m going to work harder to promote and make the support group I work with even more impactfully on our community. I’m going to work with providers in the area to teach them the compassion needed for loss moms. And I’m going to help fund raise for causes that are near and dear to the loss community. And I am going to remember the little lives that have been lost. Remember their names, say them often, and encourage others to come forward to tell their stories.