Thursday, 6 December 2007

loss

My friend miscarried this morning.

Many women know what that is like: I lost a son at three months. Miscarriages are common.

Of course, we know, with all our logic, that it is "probably for the best", and "maybe something was wrong". That's what we SAY.

Then there is the unintended pregnancy (me!) that you take weeks or months to get a grip on, only to have it end. And the guilt. Oh, boy, the "it's because I didn't want it" guilt. Or how about "what did I do wrong?"

A miscarried baby is real, and many people feel that since you didn't hold your baby or go through labour, you should not feel the way you would over a "really real" baby. I guess this is true.

A miscarried baby is purely a dream, a possibility, a wondering. And losing that, is really real. In a different way.

I had some lousy advice when I lost my baby: the doctor said to "forget all about it. Move on, it was never a viable pregnancy." I wondered how there could have been a foetus, an actual baby boy, if there had never been a viable pregnancy. But I took his advice to heart. I moved on, stoically. Sean and I moved to the UK for a wonderful year of work and school and fun. After all, it WAS for the best, wasn't it? We weren't ready for a baby. Right?

When we decided to go ahead and begin our family, I conceived quickly and had a dream: I dreamed that I went back to the hospital where I had gone when I had my miscarriage, and asked for my baby. I was ashamed: what kind of mother forgets her baby at the hospital? But the staff there had no idea what I was talking about. I became more and more frantic, searching the aisles and calling for help, and finally woke up sobbing for the baby that I had left behind.

It is difficult to know what to say to someone who has suffered a similar loss. But one day, someone told me something so beautiful: "There are some souls, who have a very difficult journey. Their past lives have been filled with suffering of the worst kind, and they have more ahead. Sometimes, it becomes too much, and they need to be held for a while; warm, nourished and loved; before they can move on. Your baby knew no pain, no anger, no fear, no sadness, no hunger, no cold. You were chosen for this job, because you could give love to a possibility, a dream, under any conditions. We special women who are chosen this way have been blessed, and those little ones thank us as they leave us."

I choose to believe this. It makes me feel better. It makes me feel like there is a purpose, beyond the negative "something was wrong." I love my baby boy, but I can let him go. I wish him well, wherever he is, and thank him for sending me that dream, so that I could cry over a really, real loss.

5 comments:

i am the diva said...

i'm so sorry for your friends loss, and also for yours. My sister in law just miscarried a couple of weeks ago. If you don't mind, i'll pass on those words to her. It's a beautiful thought.

thanks.

Shar said...

Thank you Nancy for knowing just how to help me feel better after the nightmare. I believe our little boys are happy somewhere playing together and watching over their mommies and knowing we loved them all the same as if we had gotten to hold them in our arms instead of just our hearts. Love you
shar

witchypoo said...

I would like to add to that beautiful idea. I feel that members of the same soul family contract to be helpers or joy guides as long as we walk the planet. Your baby boy is still a source of love and comfort to you, as you will be to your children when your body dies. I believe this to be true even if the mother chooses to terminate the pregnancy.
Shar, Nancy, you are in my heart.

kelly said...

MAMATOTO has a monthly support meeting for women who have lost babies led by a wonderful woman. i am not sure of the days but anyone can call 621-2368

Grandmother said...

Hi Nan, Kelly sent me your blog on loss and I wept at the loss of that little girl 32 years ago this month- 1 year before Kelly was born on Dec 6. I loved what your wise friend said and it made me see her short 5 1/2 months in such a different light. I wrote a poem (too long for this space) that I would like to share with you sometime. Miscarriages are such unacknowledged losses that I was glad to have you acknowledge it. You made me feel less alone. It made me realize again how important we women are to each other. Bless you.
Love to you, Mary