carried + loved collective

Hard Times

MiscarriageJessica Scheks8 Comments

Jesus is the reason I was pregnant. Three weeks and three days ago there was a baby growing inside of me. With a beating heart. Only three weeks ago I was blissfully and joyfully dreaming of that child growing inside of me. And suddenly it was all ripped away from me in the matter of hours.

So why do so many people expect me to be fine? To be over it already like nothing even happened? It seems like people view miscarriages as a mess-up or mistake. Not many seem to count it as what it is: Life. Even though it was cut short, it was a life beautifully crafted by the Father.

And it's not like I'm just falling into a pit of dark despair and depression. I still have joy! I may not always have happiness but I have God-given joy and I grieve with a hope that those of the world do not have. Jesus is the reason I live and he makes even the hard times sweet. But even though he makes the hard times sweet, they are still hard.

Many people seem to think that I'm already doing so much better. After all it has been over three whole weeks since I miscarried our child. Three weeks is ample time to move beyond the traumatizing yet beautiful experience of delivering your child. My child who had only been growing inside of me for mere weeks and didn't have enough time to look anything like a human. Nonetheless she was still life. She was my baby. She was the very beginning stages of a miraculous human life that only God can sustain.

I have some good days and some bad days. I have some good moments and some bad moments. They don't follow any type of pattern and are so hard to predict. I can feel fine and all it takes is the tiniest little thing to release my emotions. A well-intentioned yet insensitive comment, a bump photo, putting on a skirt that was tight several weeks ago because I was so bloated and now fits again, being congratulated by someone who hasn't heard the sad news yet, seeing a baby, seeing a mother with her baby, seeing a pregnant woman, the list goes on and on and changes constantly. Something that didn't upset me yesterday may cause instant tears today.

The sad thing is that I feel like I can't show my emotions and grief to everyone. I get the vibe before we even hit the topic. Sometimes just the way a person says, "How are you?" tells me that they are expecting me to say I'm fine because a) I should be completely fine by now, it was just a miscarriage, and/or b) they don't want to hear about how I'm actually doing. So I say, "I'm good." I say that I'm good because I can sense if I say I'm not good they'll think I'm taking this too hard; that I'm not moving on the way I should, and may even give me a disapproving glance.

But to a lot of people I say I'm "all right." Still kind of a lie, but I don't hear my voice almost catching like when I tell people that I'm good. Because that is a bold-faced lie.

How can I be okay when the thought constantly hits me that I should be pregnant? But then I am painfully reminded just as quickly that I'm not. I was. But now I'm not. And I don't have a baby to show for it. I have nothing to show for it. No stretch marks. No extra weight. In fact I've lost weight and I'm smaller than I was pre-pregnancy. I imagine that's from the stress my body is going through. Not only do I lose my appetite a lot, but I think I'm burning more calories because my mind is constantly churning and I feel the stress and the grief regularly. Not just in my mind, but physically as well.

For the next six months I will be thinking about far along I would be. This Saturday I would have entered into my second trimester. And I'm sure after the due date many will say there's nothing left to grieve. It's all over. You've gotten past everything; all of the "hard" days. But then I'm sure my thoughts will switch over to, "I should have a baby in my arms." But I don't. I held the remains of my child in the hospital. But that's it and I'll never hold that child again. I can only hope that I will be pregnant again soon so that I will have the hope of this new child mixed in with the grief for the loss of my first child.

People honestly think I'm doing fine just because I tell them I am. Please look just a little further. Notice how I quickly look away as soon as I say I'm fine. Or the half attempt of a smile on my face. Or the tears in my eyes a moment later. I may seem fine, but I put on a pretty good act. I like to grieve privately. I don't like telling people exactly how I'm feeling most of the time because sometimes I'm scared it will be met with disapproval, but even if it is met with approval and kindness then I'm afraid it will make me emotional and I won't be able to stop crying. I have a weird crying problem where once I start I can't stop. Especially if I'm in a setting where it's awkward to be crying in the first place. Because then I'm feeling awkward about crying and I'm telling myself to stop being so stupid which just makes me cry more.

I like time to process the way I feel before I just blurt it out to someone which is why I love writing the way I feel on here as opposed to saying it. Plus not many people read this blog, and the ones who do truly care about me or they are a stranger looking for comfort. I also love that this season of my life will be documented.