Friday, March 10, 2017

A Week of Grief

Note: This comes from a vulnerable place, and I am so grateful to have a community that cares and protects those places.  

Day 1:
I woke up with blood on my underwear
I went back to bed and rested
And googled
Bleeding is common in early pregnancy
So is miscarriage
If it is a miscarriage, it is a miscarriage
If not, then it isn't
As long as I am not losing a lot of blood and am not in pain, there is no reason to go to the doctor
There is nothing they could do anyway
I just wait
Wait to see if I will hurt more
Wait to see if I will bleed more
Wait to see if this will just all go away or if my pregnancy is over
I am scared to go to the bathroom
To see if it is worse
I have slight cramps: the kind that feel like they could go away at any minute, or get raging worse at any moment
So I lay here, waiting
I wait until I realize the bleeding isn't going to stop
I start to make choices
I attempt to put thoughts together and make words and try to express it but I fail miserably with my husband and just end up in tears
I don't think I am pregnant anymore
All I want is to take a bath and ignore everything
Most of all, ignore my body
Ignore what is leaving my body
I hate going to the bathroom
It tells me it is real
I go on auto-pilot: this is just a period
Just a period
Tomorrow you will be fine
But I won't
Tomorrow I will have to start telling people and hearing them say sorry and then not know what else to say
Do I assure them or do I assure myself?
I don't think I have the energy to do both
I tell those I need to tell and then we snuggle up around comfort food and old movies
I am loved

Day 2:
I can stop ignoring what is happening
I thank God it was early and without complications
I grieve my expected plans more than my baby, as it was all so new
I don’t know how to grieve for my baby yet
I find relief in knowing it was just natural body functions and not my fault
I fear someday they will link drinking lemon juice to miscarriage, or being vegetarian, or anything else I do or did
I can't be connected with blame
I just can't
I hold on to the truth that stuff just happens
It just does
It doesn't mean someone had to be wrong or sinning or to blame
My mind begins to replay through the days to see if I picked up anything too heavy
We won't play those games
It wasn't just a pregnancy
It was a whole life change
Now it means a whole different life
In the less than two weeks we knew of the pregnancy, we set up a lot of life
Now that will change
I set my mind to figuring out how
And I take another nap
Every step is undoing
Undo, pack up, or put away
I will do this quietly, carefully, and with love
Because that is how to grieve
That is how I slowly build my goodbye
Build my change
Build my habits for what happens when life changes
When people die
When what you fear comes true
You build grace, peace, and love

Day 3:
The pregnancy test says
I am not pregnant anymore
Just very tired
And it is so slow
Bit by bit I wipe away my baby
Why did God change the plan?
It was such a good plan

Day 4:
I am ready to share
But let me put it off until evening
I want to watch Youtube stories of other women
Who have survived
I want to see what this normal looks like
I have never been here before
I type up an e-mail, a text, a message
I let the words spread
I am not crying for this, and I don’t know why or why not
My tears control me more than I control them
But for the one I tell in person?
I cry before she even says hello

Day 5:
I must go shopping
The Internet tells me I am looking for a memento that a lost early pregnancy never gave me
I just want to spend money
I say no to the necklace or the figurine
I settle on buying a book
In deep grief, each first is an event:
The first meal AFTER
The first shower AFTER
The first night AFTER
The first “going out” AFTER
I put on comfortable clothes
I can do this
One step and then another
I feel good out of the house
I needed the fresh air
I felt so “old” normal
Like “new” normal hadn’t caught up to me yet

Day 6:
I set aside time just me and my daughter
I set aside time just me and my husband
I set aside time just me and myself
So many things that I do have
Physically: I am doing well
Spiritually: I am doing well
Emotionally: I keep finding little holes
Empty places in random spaces
They come up without warning
There is no timetable to when they will stop
I need music
I need nature
I need beauty
I need to cry

Day 7:
It was too soon to know if it was a he or a she
But a she is all I know and how my mind fills in the blanks
And in her honor we leave the name we picked for a girl
Only today can I say her name
I journal: “God is good. Life is beautiful. My community cares. I am alright. It doesn’t have to all fit right now. I live with no regrets.”
My friend said it best: “(our lost babies) remind us this is not our home and eternity is not too far off.”
I don’t know what happens to babies who die before they are born
I’d like to think they live a life perfect in heaven, never knowing pain
But this I do know: they are either in heaven, or they are something better that I can’t even imagine
God made my little Madelena
On March 2nd she went wherever lost babies go
She went to where she could never be lost again


  1. Thanks for posting so vulnerably. I love you. I will be praying for you both.

  2. this is so vulnerable, but it reaches down to my soul and hits that hidden spot only God knows. Thank you for sharing, being open and vulnerable. Praying for you, and your family. Grieve on and let the God of the Universe hold you as only He can. Hugs

  3. Blessings on your sweet caring spirit. Grief is hard, long and weighty at times. Give yourself grace to experience it. You are loved. I am sorry

  4. My prayers are for you all but right now especially for you. God Bless You!

  5. We just read what happened. Our hearts are with you. Our prayers and our thoughts. May God be with you, blessings. We love you. David and Ivana.