Sometimes I still think about my baby.
Sometimes I wonder how he or she would have fit into this family.
Sometimes, I wish I were shopping for maternity clothes rather than rejoicing in lost inches through T-Tapp.
Sometimes, when those around me who are pregnant announce their genders, some getting the much-desired gender they do not have, I wonder if that baby was “our boy.” Will I never know the joy of raising a son here on this earth?
Sometimes, I wonder how I will feel when those who got pregnant around the time I did are giving birth.
Yet, sometimes, I am so grateful I am not expecting right now. There has been a lot going on. I am not coping with some of it well. My hands feel full.
And when I feel those feelings, I feel tremendous guilt. How could I be glad my baby is gone?
I never named the baby. I know a lot of women who lose a baby do. For me, because I do not know his/her gender, he/she doesn’t have a name. Then, in a way I feel like I am letting that baby down.
I guess I need to rely in the fact that God knows what I can handle, had something He wanted me to learn or still learn from that experience, and will give us another child if and when He feels it is the right time.
I know for a fact that I have more compassion now than I did before for those struggling with loss or dealing with infertility. While I am not dealing with infertility, I do think I have a slight grasp of some of those emotions. The joy you feel for your friends combined with the intense sadness for yourself, then the thought that you are being selfish.
When I was pregnant with Miss N, my very close friend was also expecting. She ended up losing that baby. I never quite knew what to do – I was heartbroken for her, yet rejoicing for myself. Maybe I can understand her emotions somewhat more than I did before.