It's Pregnancy & Infant Loss Awareness Day! And I couldn't let the day go by without saying something.
Except... I really don't feel like saying anything.
Maybe because this has been an insanely busy month for us and I have had a million other things to think about and plan for that I just haven't cared to think about our losses this year. I am notorious for hyper-focusing on small details and distracting myself from things that I don't want to deal with when we have a lot going on, so I wondered if I was using a busy time in our life as an excuse to not think about my son and our miscarriages right now.
Maybe....? I guess.....
But I don't think that's what it is. I just honestly don't have anything to say.
Eric and I endured our 5th (my 6th) loss earlier this year right before we permanently ended our ability to have biological children, and I haven't wanted to talk about it. I still don't. What is there to say?
For 7 years we did everything that we were supposed to do.... for nothing. We got on our knees and begged God for a child. We spent years trying to have a baby. We talked to all sorts of doctors and specialists and did every painful and invasive testing or procedure they asked us to. We looked for the joy, often desperately so that we may stay hopeful on a path that was truly kicking our asses. I've screamed at the universe and demanded an answer to "why me!?" while stomping my feet and crossing my arms over my body like a toddler. I've watched my husband roll his eyes and slam his phone down a little harder than I'm used to for such a gentle man when another one of our friends announces a pregnancy. And we asked for God's forgiveness after all those times we knew we were being extra bratty. We were mindful to stay faithful and patient, assuring ourselves that a miracle was waiting for us... even when God was quiet and not so reassuring.
As time went on we knew that it was impossible for me to carry a baby to term; that I would never be able to give my husband a biological child. There was no hope and deep down we knew it - we slowly let that sink in and learned to accept it. Eric and I took more than a year to make the decision to permanently end our ability to have children and save us from enduring any more losses. We were SO careful not to rush anything. We took our time making the best decision for us, for our hearts, for my health, for our daughter, and for our future. We prayed fiercely and relentlessly. And for what?! For another gosh damned miscarriage to blindside us as we were finally fucking moving on with our lives?!
It was shitty. And It wasn't fair. And we're a little pissed about it.
I don't think there is anything to say because I don't think there are words to describe the pain of losing a son and 5 pregnancies. I don't think there are words to describe that sort of pain because a stillbirth, 5 miscarriages, sudden unexplained infertility, a failed IVF cycle, and 5 abdominal surgeries mixed in with all of that isn't supposed to fucking happen. So words to describe that sort of pain don't exist.
I don't have anything inspirational to say because there is nothing inspirational about what we have gone through. And that's just the way I feel right now.