Well, this past weekend was my due date. August 26, 2016. And to be honest, it was just as hard as I thought it was going to be.
August 27th was the due date as calculated by the date of my LMP (last menstrual period), but August 26th was the estimated due date from our dating ultrasound. So, this past weekend there were a lot of tears. A lot of pits in my stomach and lumps in my throat.
Miscarriage is a strange loss. I can’t say we were able to think back on the good times and fun memories we made with our deceased loved one…because there weren’t any. This child died in utero before we could even see him crack a smile. The only memories I have of my baby are hearing his heart beat for the first time, and seeing his fully formed face on ultrasound the day we found out we were miscarrying. Both my husband and I heard the heartbeat, but only I saw his face. The ultrasound tech didn’t print the picture, so the only place that memory will ever exist is in my mind.
Friday night included laying on my mothers lap for 15 minutes, bawling my eyes out. There is something about her that is so comforting to me. Her hands, her voice, all soothed me like I was her little girl again as she was trying to console me. Then I went home with my husband and we spent the night relaxing together.
Saturday wasn’t as bad, I think that was because I had a million things to do that day. I kept my mind occupied and kept moving, which helped me not get so down. I ended up going out with some of my good friends to celebrate a graduation. One of them asked me “When are y’all having kids?” Ouch. She has no idea that she is picking at an invisible scab. “Oh, soon I hope. We’ll see!” with a forced grin on my face. Then she said something that sent chills down my spine. She said “You look like a mom, and not in a bad way. You just look really motherly right now, I feel it. It’s going to happen soon”. I figured it may be awkward if I hugged her and started crying immediately and uncontrollably in the middle of the bar, so I digressed.
We had our memorial service Sunday. It was just Jesus, hubby and I, we went to a nearby lake with a half dozen balloons. We found a spot off the dock; he said a small prayer, read a poem he had wrote to August (which I’ve shared at the end of this blog), and then we sat for a little bit in silence. Then together, we let the balloons go and watched them float for as high as we could see. And then we left. It was harder than I imagined to let the balloons go. For those 15 minutes…from the time it took to get from the party store to the lake, those balloons meant something. It was so hard to let go. There were no tears from me on Sunday. I got a little choked up, but my husband did cry. We spent the rest of the evening home.
I think the hardest part about it all was that this day seemed like just a normal day for the rest of the world. Nobody but our closest family even realized it was our due date, and I don’t think anyone would have cared much if I told them anyway. In our world, someone very important to us had died and today was their funeral. But, to the rest of the world…it was just another day. As a matter of fact, according to social media it was national dog day. Just another day. The bad news is that the world keeps turning and life keeps happening.
But, you see, that’s also the good news. The world keeps turning, and life keeps happening. I thank God that I am able to hold onto his promises and keep going forward in His strength. God is working, even (and especially) when I don’t understand. It’s taken a lot for me to even get to this point, and I am so thankful.
I’ve included (with his permission) a poem written by my dear husband:
From the moment your existence was learned things changedTitles change, life changes and everything rearrangesExcitement followsFollowed by anticipationThen in the blink of an eye everything changesAnd life seems so hollowDays go byPeople come by and tears eventually go dryBut never mistake the pain is very much aliveThe impact you have had on our lives is immeasurableWhile everyone else seems to have forgottenI carry the weight of your absence with me everywhere I goBut I firmly trust and believe in God that your absence is not in vainUnfortunately you served your purpose for us before the world would know your nameWho we are today is a direct result of youAnd in this life and the next know that mommy and daddy will always love you