It really is a sisterhood..

The girls from my iVillage group ‘Trying To Conceive- After Miscarriage’ are amazing. They really are. Never have I found such understanding when it came to my miscarriage. Because while our stories may all be different, our hearts all hurt the same.

I’ve spoken with so many people, some friends of mine with children, who tell me things like, ‘just be patient, it’ll happen.’ Or, ‘stop trying so hard! Just relax!’
These people give me advice, words of “wisdom”, all the while blissfully unaware of the struggle that is infertility problems of any kind, whether it be struggling to conceive, miscarriage, or what have you. If you have not had problems conceiving (and I’m not talking, ‘oh it took me FOUR WHOLE MONTHS to conceive!’), you do not understand. If you have not experienced the loss of a child-and that is what a miscarriage is, no matter HOW early it was-then, you do not understand, plain and simple.

You don’t know what it’s like to see a pregnant woman, to look down at your own belly and be reminded of what SHOULD be, and to be filled with such an overwhelming feeling of sadness, it feels as if the entire fiber of your being is going to split apart with the grief. You can not understand the sense of loss, the sense of never EVER being able to know that child that you conceived; to not even make it to the point where you truly knew if it was a boy or a girl. To have a miscarriage is to lose your dreams and your hopes for that tiny little life inside of you. The loss of a child is unlike any other loss. The loss of a grandparent, a parent, a sibling, aunt, uncle, cousin… These are all losses that of course, are real and valid, and painful. But to lose a child generates a whole new level, and depth of grief, that if you haven’t been through it, you simply cannot know what it feels like.

A woman who has lost a baby most likely will not come out and express her jealousy toward other pregnant women aloud, because we know what others will think of us. People who haven’t been there can’t sympathize, and thus they jump to the conclusion that we’re bitter, hateful, and full of negativity. This simply is not true. We are in pain. Every glimpse of a baby belly; every glance at a onesie is a constant reminder of our loss. This is why places like my message board, and this blog, come in handy. With my “sistahs”, I can talk about anything. I can vent my sadness at seing a newborn baby at a store. I can share with them the jealousy when I see a pregnant woman waddling through the maternity section of Target. And they will not judge me, because they themselves have felt the exact same thing. Is this emotion necessarily a fair thing to feel? No, it’s not. Any woman who is pregnant is entitled to feel the joy of carrying a new life inside of her. Of course she does. But that doesn’t make my (and other women’s) feelings any less there, or any less painful.

This is my blog. This is a place for me to go, to express my feelings about my miscarriage, and our trying to conceive again. If you don’t like what I say here, don’t read it.
It’s taken longer than I anticipated. I wish every single solitary day of my life that I hadn’t lost my baby. I wish that I were holding that newborn child in my arms right now, singing him or her to sleep. Feeding that tiny little being. But I’m not. And unless you have gone through what I, and many other women, have gone through you will not EVER understand.

And I honestly and sincerely, with every ounce of myself, hope you never do understand. Because it’s one of the worst things I can imagine a person having to go through. I wouldn’t wish it upon anyone, ever, and I wish that no one had to endure it.

When it finally is my turn, I know that if I ever see a woman who looks at me a little too long, with a sad, jealous, or angry look in her eye, I will know her pain, and understand that it’s nothing personal. She’s hurting, she’s lost, and all she really wants is her baby back.