It is over, officially. The miscarriage process has officially been declared finished and my body is working on get itself back to normal. Over the last month I have used my space here to share bits and pieces of my experiences and it’s accompanying emotions and now it seems right to reflect on the most important part of the journey – coming to grips with who my baby is and why we went through this.
“No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.” – C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed.
I don’t remember if I really said anything as my husband came up the stairs when I returned home. I think that all he managed to get out was half of “How did it go?”. I remember looking at him and just shaking my head, that was all I could manage before the next wave of tears hit. When I could breath again all I could say for a while was, “It’s empty. There just nothing there.”
My friends told me it would be okay; that it was okay to just trust in God and let the rest work its way out and tired of waiting and counting months and sick days we threw the towel in and decided to trust. Two weeks later we were quite surprised and a month later we were in shock.
We had trusted, we had been open and loving and giving and everything we were supposed to be and all we had to show for it was an empty, black circle on an ultrasound screen.
It’s tricky to describe my theories on children and family planning. I know I don’t believe that my predestined children are sitting on a cloud waiting for their mother and father to have some alone time. That would mean that potentially a stressful week or a slew of expensive car repairs could leave some lone soul sitting by itself because the right time wasn’t utilized.
Rather, I believe in the possibility of my children, that the right combination of actions, trust, faith and sometimes the lack of all of those makes that possibility a reality. By being watchful, patient and mature I am never getting in the way of my children’s only chance at life, but rather actively trying to arrange for their best chances when they become a reality. I believe that when the time is right, whether we realize it at the time or not, a soul is given to us.
It took a long time to realize that in the end this experience was not a case of subtraction. It felt, for a long time, that something had been deleted from my life. I could only focus on what had been taken away – a long list of details and experiences that were never going to happen. I forgot that my children are first and foremost souls and that souls never die.
A physical body had ceased to exist and I will mourn for a long time the experiences that I could have known and shared with that body, but the soul had never ceased to be and that soul was a gift.
I believe that the gift of that soul to our family’s care is a sign that we are on the right path, that our trust, our fiat will be rewarded.
I am the mother of two gorgeous souls, both have been given to me and my husband. They have been entrusted to our care and in return we are given to them as well. As we pray daily for them I hope I can guide them to do the same for us.
I am the mother of one beautiful boy who can run and jump and give me kisses and wets my shoulder with tears. I am the mother of a beautiful boy who will age and explore this world. I am the mother of a beautiful boy whom I hope will only know joy and happiness in his life, even if I know that is not possible.
I am the mother of one beautiful soul, also a boy I believe, who will never know fear or pain or grief. I am the mother of a beautiful soul who exists outside of the constraints of time and space. I am the mother of a beautiful soul whose time on earth was limited, but within that time knew only love and that is the best I could wish for my children.