As I tweeted earlier this weekend, we had a 9% chance according to our clinic. 9% chance of miscarriage for couples in our age range. There was no reason to believe this would happen…no reason at all. There’s no explaining why it happened. That hasn’t stopped us from compiling our own list of reasons why we’ve blamed ourselves:
– I got a cold two days after the pregnancy test was positive. Did I give it to our unborn child who was too small and weak to fight it?
– HopeToBeMommy thinks she could have eaten more vegetables.
– HopeToBeMommy thinks she shouldn’t have shopped last Sunday afternoon…too much walking.
These three are amongst many others we came up with. Which of course is nonsense. There’s nothing we did wrong. We do know that. But when 9% happens, it’s just difficult to accept that the reason is “bad luck”.
Bad luck. And we’re back to square one. It’s like this dream that we had; we had a dream that for 9 days, we were pregnant, and everything was fine. It was more than fine, it was…perfect. We bought books, and bigger clothes for HopeToBeMommy, and I even had to buy newborn diapers. I couldn’t help it; yeah, it was stupid but I’d been waiting for a long time to buy something for my baby. And I had a coupon.
And now all that stuff is hidden away in boxes, out of sight. That life no longer exists, at least for right now. What does exist is a life where we have the still-elusive goal of having a child. For 9 great days, things were progressing, and I was a daddy. Then things became uncertain, and 5 days later, we knew for sure that I was a daddy no more.
And we’re sad. It’s devastating and really hard to accept. It’s nearly impossible not to ask the “why us?” question. We finally, finally get that positive result…and then it’s taken away by an event that had a 9% chance of happening. It’s not fair.
Yet this is not a self-pity entry. I can’t live that way. I’m an optimist, and I have to see hope and possibility. I was only a daddy for 9 days….but I was a daddy for 9 days. I liked it even more than I ever imagined.
I’ll get the chance again. We’re likely to have success again, and we’ll be 91% to go full term. There are no sure things, but I’ll be a dad. I’ve now been there, and I want it more than ever. It felt so freakin’ good. I can either dwell on the pain of that feeling being gone…or I can dream about it being reality again one day.
We lost our child. I don’t think it matters whether you knew them for 2 weeks, 2 months, 2 years, 20 years, in the womb or in the world. It’s painful. We’ve cried, and we’ll continue to mourn. Eventually, we’ll be ready to try again and I have great hopes as we move forward. I’ll be a dad. HopeToBeMommy will be a mom. Strangely, I believe that now more than ever.
But this will always be a part of us. This will never go away. We’ll never “get over it”. The love existed, it was real and it tattooed us. I guess that’s called being a parent.
I should know.