Alone

I am trying my hardest to take comfort in small, small things.  Even though some are trivial.

  • That from the beginning, I knew this pregnancy was high-risk and was prepared for the worst.  I felt guilty about being so detached but with the outcome that happened, I had shielded myself a bit.
  • That I asked for the ultrasound from the beginning instead of using the doppler and having an identical experience.  I was spared at least a few minutes of mind-numbing fear.
  • I am grateful that my favorite doctor was the one who broke the news to me and that he was caring and compassionate.
  • I am grateful the delivery took considerably less time.
  • I did not have to have a D&C.
  • Even though we still went through a funeral home, I did not have to sign a death certificate.  Once was enough.
  • I am already in therapy.
  • I have less weight to lose.
  • Since I was not as far along, I likely will not have to suppress breastmilk production. It could still happen, but not as likely.  Or if it does happen, I know how to suppress it as quickly as possible.
  • Because of my fears, I had not gotten out any of our baby supplies. I only needed to pack away my maternity clothes and I’ve already done that. 
  • The kids are still young enough that they will (hopefully) be largely unaffected and instead just inquisitive.  And unfortunately, brutally honest.
  • My brother and his girlfriend had already planned a trip here, so we had help over the weekend.
  • I have a wide-reaching network of support.
I won’t even list out all of the things that suck because that list is much, much longer.
Even with the solace that I am attempting to find, I feel horribly alone.  Alone and scared about my ability to hold it together.  Alone and worried about what the next few weeks, months look like.  Worried that I have used up all of my words expressing my grief previously and that I will not be able to adequately articulate myself in the way that this baby deserves.  Concerned that despite my best efforts to stay mentally healthy, that the weight of what has happened will overtake me.  Terrified of the triggers and the nightmares and the flashbacks that I had finally seemed to move beyond and now will likely experience all over again. Scared to lean on people again when I just had to do so a few short months ago.

From the inside of one of the books that the hospital sent home for the boys

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