I’m always amazed when I have new thoughts regarding our loss last November—I guess that’s partly because I sometimes feel like I’ve thunk every thought I can think regarding Zach.
But last night, as I was pondering my day of feeling bloated and heavy (and berating myself for whining about it), I flashed to a vision of an alternate universe. In this universe:
I am still 28 weeks pregnant—but it is New Year’s Eve (or thereabouts) 2007, not July 8, 2008.
M and I have made the decision to carry my doomed pregnancy to term, or however long my body chooses to house this baby.
I am feeling as I do now—bloated, heavy and fat, and I wonder whether I will ever be able to regain my former figure.
Strangers are becoming brave enough to ask me when I’m due.
I start to wonder just how difficult labor and delivery will be for me.
Now that I am experiencing the third trimester, I can catch just a glimpse of what the latter part of my first pregnancy would have been like, had we not chosen to end it.
But there’s a big difference.
Even when I have days like yesterday, during which I felt hot and decidedly unpretty, there is an underlying joy to everything I’m feeling and doing. I can handle the discomfort because I have high hopes that there will be a huge reward at the end of this pregnancy. I can plod my way through a boring day at work because I know I have a baby shower to look forward to on Saturday. I can smile my way through muggy nights because I know my husband is painting the nursery down the hall.
If I had been this pregnant with Zach, there would have been only sadness as I looked at my body. I have no idea what I would have said to strangers and acquaintances. Would I have told them about Zach’s problems right away before they could launch into a bunch of innocent questions about the baby’s sex, due date, names, etc.? Would I have taken some measure of satisfaction as I watched the smile fade from their faces after they learned of my baby’s predicted demise? Would I have turned our sad story into a black joke just to more easily escape the inevitable awkward conversation?
I know, without a doubt, I could not have handled it.
No. I take that back. With God’s strength I could have handled it. But choosing to continue the pregnancy would have turned the worst week of my life into the worst four months of my life. I would have had to watch as my friends and family members announced pregnancies, as my SIL happily decorated her toddler’s new room to make way for the (living) baby she was expecting in March, as my co-workers started talking about “trying.”
The horrifying thought of that alternate universe is something I plan to hold close to my heart the next time I’m feeling particularly whiny.
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8 comments:
Those are scary thoughts and obviously you made the right choice for you and your family. Another thing that comes to my mind is that if you had continued in your pregnancy with Zach, you would not be pregnant right now with this baby.
But don't worry about whining sometimes. I think we all know how much you love this baby and appreciate this pregnancy.
As sad as these thoughts are, my eyes have been opened even more as to why you made the right decision. Thank you for sharing.
Yes, with God's strength. Because I know I'm not alone in thinking that I couldn't handle going through half of what you have been through. Yet you have done it, and survived, and been a source of strength and hope to so many others.
It is amazing how tragedy can quickly put things into perspective....I have had my fair share and you value things, even the hard times, so much more...
I am so happy that you find strengh in God, it is so sad to me to read other's blogs that don't believe and are so hopeless....it is comforting to know that you will see Zach one day....I am praying for you and hope you have a wonderful time this weekend at the baby shower!! :)
Can one lost baby mum tell another to be kind to herself?
You made the right choice with Zach. I know you did. You know you did (which is more important than me knowing it)
I'm so sorry that you know the sorrow that can come with baby loss. I'm sorry that you can't be innocent and free.
As always, praying for you. (And 28 weeks, drat I lost some time there.)
I am glad if looking at it that way helps you feel better. : )
I was talking to my therapist recently about how, before I lost my twins, I had "reconciled myself" to being nauseous and sick my entire pregnancy. I had begun to steel myself for it. But, as you say, despite feeling lousy, there can be joy because of the prize we hope for at the end of the journey.
I'm so sorry you had to make such a choice. I hope that you are beginning to find some peace with it.
Oh yeah, I hear you. And I'm so glad that despite the heat, you are muddling through with a sense of happiness and gratitude. Here's hoping the weather gives you a break for awhile.
Sadly, I think there is a broad assumption out there that "mental distress" in a doomed pregnancy is a bogus factor in deciding to say goodbye early. Yet like you, the truth for me was that knowingly carrying a dying baby to term would have killed my psyche in some pretty substantial ways. In the weeks leading up to my term.ina.tion, the idea of continuing the pregnancy made me feel truly suicidal. I'd never felt that way before, nor since.
I am so grateful that there was an option available that allowed me to preserve a little more of myself, in addition to ending my baby's suffering early.
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