I had every intention of lighting a candle and remembering not only my lost children, but also the children others have lost at various stages of their lives. Then my dog ate an organic tampon, went to the vet to induce vomiting, $240 later came home, and promptly went back to the trash and ate another one. FYI, teaspoon of salt on the back of the tongue makes them vomit for pennies.
So here goes, yesterday sucked really bad. I hope someday it hurts less. I have no hope that it will ever go away entirely. I just hope that I get to a place where it doesn’t feel like my chest is collapsing.
I refer to my three losses now. Not that long ago, I turned to Hubby and said “well, that’s two. Recurrent miscarriage now” An odd look came over his face, “three” he said. I was only counting the pregnancies I had created on purpose. That oopsie miscarriage they happened to catch in the ER at college was conveniently blocked out of my memory. I had kept it a secret for about a year, terrified that my parents would be disappointed and/or make me come home and that Hubby, my then boyfriend, would break up with me due to the way too seriousness of a pregnancy. Maybe that’s where the mental block came from. Or maybe it hurts to acknowledge that at that moment in time, I was relieved. It was a weird time for me. I was trying to decide whether or not to move back to Boston or stay in NY for grad school. I wasn’t sure how our relationship factored into any of that. It stayed a secret and then it was common knowledge among most people as a “near miss” in our lives and stayed neat and tidy in a compartment inside of me without any emotion. I do remember crying uncontrollably when we saw the movie Juno. I vaguely remember feeling like we were going to be the adoptive parents and not the biological ones and I wanted another chance with the one I lost. I remember feeling really confused by what I was feeling. Not entirely unlike how I feel now.
This is where I say some cliche about it happens for a reason and I wouldn’t be where I am in my life without it, but I still can’t bring myself to go there. I can’t say that I wouldn’t take a trip through a “what-if” machine. Would we have gotten married right then? Would we still be together?
I’ll never know.