I had planned to write about something completely different, but it feels wrong to not write about the one thing I cannot get off my mind. You see, about the time I started to write this blog, I lost a baby.
I had a miscarriage.
I never saw it coming, but I guess no one ever does. It was the second ultrasound. I had already seen my baby once. I saw the little heartbeat flickering on the screen and felt the assurance that I was going to have a baby in September. My husband and I experienced the joy of knowing we had another child on the way. Our family was excited, and our twin girls were over the moon about becoming big sisters, but our joy quickly turned to sorrow when there was no heartbeat at that second ultrasound.
The little life I had carried inside of me was gone.
I believe that everything happens for a reason, but I’ll admit that I am having a hard time finding any reason in this. Maybe I haven’t found it because the loss is still too recent or maybe I’ll never find out what the reason was. I don’t know, but what I do know is that this experience has changed me and reaffirmed what is important in life.
I have always been a mom of schedules and rules – type A through and through. I put a lot of emphasis on doing things the “right way.” I was so afraid of messing up or raising children who didn’t know how to behave. I love my girls and love for them to have fun, but anything too unstructured or off-plan gave me so much anxiety. I tried to be laid-back and roll with the punches, but it was tough for me.
When this happened, all those things I stressed over stopped feeling important.
Pushing back nap time because it’s a beautiful day or being late because the girls want to stop and watch a worm crawl across the pavement is no big deal. I let the laundry pile up because my girls want me to play Play-doh with them, and the dishes wait now until they go to bed. I read all the books they ask for (even the super long ones). The hard days with them don’t seem as hard now. Temper tantrums and nap refusals don’t ruin my whole day. I see bad moments for what they are — just a few minutes out of a whole day.
I spend my time being more present than I have ever been and loving my girls as much as I can. The very fact that I have two little girls feels like even more of a blessing. Their very existence is even more of a miracle. It’s easy to put away my phone and things that used to distract me. I cherish all the giggles and snuggles. Being their mother is a privilege and time spent with them is precious.
I have a heart full of gratitude for my village. I now know just how many people I have in my corner and how many people love me. I have family and friends who have shown up and lifted me up when I wasn’t even sure what I needed. Women I barely know have reached out and shared their stories of loss with me and have made me feel less alone. I used to think that leaning on others was a sign of weakness, but now I know better. Moms need each other to get through the terrible and tough parts of life.
I am nowhere near being done processing this loss and the grief is still severe. So, I am not here to tell anyone how to get through something like this, because I am still not sure. I don’t know the right way to cope or if I will be able to look back on this one day without it hurting. It’s hard searching for answers I know I may never find.