October 15 is Pregnancy and Infant Loss remembrance Day. My Facebook and Instagram feeds have been filled with photos of candles and memories for two days (time differences from around the world). It breaks my heart seeing how much loss and sadness goes on for so many people, and the strength of people amazes me. |
It's a funny situation for us to be in, because in a way I don't feel like our losses have been 'enough' that we qualify as participants in this day. My hcg levels have never been high enough to be told I am officially pregnant, but the positive home pregnancy tests, and the little light of hope that burns even after your first blood test were still real for us, especially the first time. I mostly feel healed from our two biochemical pregnancy experiences, although every now and then if I stop and think about them - again, especially that first one - my heart aches, my throat closes up and I feel the burn of tears behind my eyes.
I remember those first few tests with the positive lines and how as much as you want to protect yourself your heart can't help but feel warm and your mind can't help but fill with ideas and thoughts and images of the future. The growing fear as the lines started to fade with later tests, the confusion, slow heartache but persistent hope between blood tests, and then the final knowledge after the second blood test.
I know that there are women and couples out there who haven't even got that far, who have never seen positive lines on a pregnancy test and they too would be grieving on October 15th because they've lost what so many people take for granted - the ability to have children. There are people who have had miscarriages and still births and there are people who have lost their precious child days, weeks or months after birth. We all grieve different losses in different ways and we shouldn't question ourselves for feeling however we feel.
There's also the fear that comes with acknowledging these losses. What if it happens again? For us, and I can imagine many others, we are also scared that if we do finally get that official pregnancy, that it will end in a miscarriage, a stillbirth or significant health issues for a baby. Infertility opens our minds to a world of terrifying potentials. We don't take things for granted when it comes to pregnancy and children because we've already experienced so much heartache and stress, we know how much more is possible. We spend so much money, and more importantly so much energy and emotional investment in trying to fall pregnant, that it feels as though the cost of further loss is so much greater. Sometimes I wonder if I'm ever lucky enough to carry a pregnancy to term, will the rest of my life just be filled with fear of losing such a precious and hard fought for gift? Sometimes it seems easier to walk away from it all and focus on living a different life to the one I thought we'd lead, but then will that end up in a life full of regrets later on?
I guess what we all just fall back on is hope. Hope that the pain of losses fades, hope that our dreams come true, that we all get our own little miracle, hope that if we don't that we can cope, hope that life - no matter how it looks - will be fulfilling and jam packed full of love and happiness.
I remember those first few tests with the positive lines and how as much as you want to protect yourself your heart can't help but feel warm and your mind can't help but fill with ideas and thoughts and images of the future. The growing fear as the lines started to fade with later tests, the confusion, slow heartache but persistent hope between blood tests, and then the final knowledge after the second blood test.
I know that there are women and couples out there who haven't even got that far, who have never seen positive lines on a pregnancy test and they too would be grieving on October 15th because they've lost what so many people take for granted - the ability to have children. There are people who have had miscarriages and still births and there are people who have lost their precious child days, weeks or months after birth. We all grieve different losses in different ways and we shouldn't question ourselves for feeling however we feel.
There's also the fear that comes with acknowledging these losses. What if it happens again? For us, and I can imagine many others, we are also scared that if we do finally get that official pregnancy, that it will end in a miscarriage, a stillbirth or significant health issues for a baby. Infertility opens our minds to a world of terrifying potentials. We don't take things for granted when it comes to pregnancy and children because we've already experienced so much heartache and stress, we know how much more is possible. We spend so much money, and more importantly so much energy and emotional investment in trying to fall pregnant, that it feels as though the cost of further loss is so much greater. Sometimes I wonder if I'm ever lucky enough to carry a pregnancy to term, will the rest of my life just be filled with fear of losing such a precious and hard fought for gift? Sometimes it seems easier to walk away from it all and focus on living a different life to the one I thought we'd lead, but then will that end up in a life full of regrets later on?
I guess what we all just fall back on is hope. Hope that the pain of losses fades, hope that our dreams come true, that we all get our own little miracle, hope that if we don't that we can cope, hope that life - no matter how it looks - will be fulfilling and jam packed full of love and happiness.