Written October 11, 2013.
It is hard keeping track of unmet due dates when you have so many of them.
And now, June 7.
I am almost 9 weeks pregnant. And the sweet little soul inside of me has stopped growing at the rate babies should grow in order to survive inside of my womb.
And so, we tuck another due date into our hearts, and we wait for the physical goodbye that will inevitably come soon.
But, how do you prepare for something like that? How do you prepare to say goodbye to the child you literally just discovered? The one that you have spent the last 7 months talking about and dreaming about. I don’t want to do that again. Again.
I have said goodbye to 5 of my babies. It is now officially cruel. It is now beyond the normal. It is now just plain enough.
Or is it? Because after my third miscarriage, I said enough. No more trying. And then we had Emara, and I said, she is enough. No more trying. And then we had a miscarriage in February and my heart somehow stopped saying enough and started saying try again.
Why? I thought it was for this reason growing inside of me. I thought it was for you.
And it was, sweet baby. But, you are going to leave me soon. And I am so tired of saying goodbye.
I feel like an idiot. For hoping. For believing. For actually thinking that my body would just fix itself after having Emara.
I feel angry. So angry at my body. Who I have fed well, I have taken care of. I KNOW my body. Or at least, I thought I knew my body. I thought my body would be ready.
The timing was going to be perfect. Have this baby before our little one from Ethiopia came home. Go from a family of 1 to 3 in a year. “How awesome would that be?”, I said. But, there I go planning again…and I should know by now that for my family, you just cannot make a plan.
I do not understand. To this day, why I have such a huge heart for a big family and it keeps being taken away. I would kill to be one of those people who are like “one and done, sister!” or “give me two and we are happy”. But no, I want a thousand. I literally want a tribe of pitter patter kids. And I always have.
When I step back and breathe in perspective, I know that I have much to be grateful for. But that is what makes this impending loss so tricky.
I feel like I am not supposed to be sad.
I feel like I am supposed to be grateful that I even have one child. That I should have known better than to even try and get pregnant with my kind of track record.
But I am sad. I am so so sad. Sad for you. For me. For Scott. For Emara.
You matter to me, baby. You matter to your daddy. I will never get used to saying goodbye like this. Never. And the ache for heaven gets that much deeper each time.
And because you are still inside of me, I am going to hold my tummy tight, pray for your tiny body and hope that there is a chance that your heart keeps beating.