I wrote about my miscarriage last year, and my current pregnancy. Although we’re very happy about this last pregnancy, the fear of having another miscarriage plagues me. Before I miscarried last June, it was something I never thought about. Especially, since I’d had three healthy pregnancies, with no real complications. Aside from having Hypermesis Gravidarum and lots of pain towards the end of my third pregnancy, they were all normal. Miscarriage was something I knew existed, but never thought would happen to me.
When it did, it hit me like a ton of bricks. Was it my fault? Was it stress? Was it medication I had taken? What had I done wrong?
I laid in the hospital bed with my mom and kids around me, comforting me, and I could tell they felt sorry for me. Why? I’m the one that owed them an apology. My husband rushed over from work. I could tell he didn’t know what to say. He was sad, but he didn’t seem to understand the gravity of what we lost. Look at that, I was judging him for not grieving the way I thought he should. The way I needed him to. We struggled with that for months.
Then we got another chance to have one last baby, and we’re happy, but what about the one we lost?
I’ve seen all the Facebook posts mentioning “rainbow babies”. People pay tribute to their lost babies. They name them. They celebrate them. I get it, I really do. But I have more practical questions, like how do I number the baby I’m carrying after my miscarriage? Is this #4 or #5? Do I use the name I had picked out for the lost baby, or is that a faux pas? When people ask how many children I have, do I only count the ones that are living?
These are the hard questions. The ones that I think about quite a bit. The questions that I’m sure other moms have struggled with – some more than once.