A Week of Tears, Silence, and Heartbreak. 

My world changed again, even when I thought it’d be impossible to do so. In the blink of an eye my optimistic dreams of the future, for the little life inside me changed to despair and disbelief. Once again I came tumbling down the rabbit hole of grief and empty arms.

The hope draining out of me is as painful as an animal who is left to bleed out; lonely and slowly turning cold. I feel like I’m hanging here upside down, the world is making sure all the hope is out of me before it turns me right-side up again. This is how I felt after Jensen was born, but with this loss there isn’t a cloud of grief numbing me. The sting of the cut is so fresh and right through the wound of where I was originally cut with Jensen.

This past (little over a) week, I found out Jensen’s sibling has died, had to wait in fear of miscarrying naturally so the doctor wouldn’t be able to get a tissue sample, and had to undergo a surgery. Somehow just saying surgery or a D&C doesn’t give the justification of what it actually felt like, but maybe I’ll get to that another day. I’ve slept, a lot, trying to escape my reality. In my dreams I’m able to see Jensen and to forget that this heartbreak actually happened.

I haven’t wanted to talk to anyone, maybe besides my mom, dad, and brother. There are unread messages and emails on my phone that I don’t know when I’ll get to read. Just seeing people say ‘I’m sorry’ is so triggering right now. I’m sorry for myself. Sorry that I couldn’t help bring another child in my arms.

My motherhood feels like a failure.

When I went to the hospital last Wednesday, I walked in the room and saw this beautiful gift bag from my sweet friend, Jessica at Lettered Hope. I remember not being able to go through anything before I went into surgery, it hurt too much. The only thing I read was the prayer she wrote. Those words repeated in my mind before I went under. I kept thinking of Jensen and his little sibling too.

It’s moments like those where I realize I’m not a failure and neither is my motherhood. I didn’t ask for any of this to happen; no one would ever ask for pregnancy loss. Yet in her words of letting me know I’m not alone, God is with me, and thinking of how Jensen is always with me calmed me. The calmness stayed with me until they doctor put the anesthesia into my IV.

I dreamt of Jensen when I was under. We were on the beach and playing in the sand. In that dream I was so aware of what was happening, he was right there in front of my smiling and laughing. I was happy and the weight of anxiety and grief vanished.

When I woke up, I was sobbing. Tears flooded my face and I couldn’t catch my breath. The nurses probably thought I was crazy. I kept saying Jensen’s name wishing I could go back to my dream or wishing that was somehow my reality. That sobbing and feeling of emptiness has stayed with me and I’m not sure when it’ll go away.

The only thing that has helped hold me together was the contents in Jessica’s gift to me, Jensen bear, and my family including Leo and Poe. Seeing the immense support I’ve gotten online from the loss community has been so helpful. Even when I feel lonely, I know there’s other people who are cheering me on and sending me positive vibes. There have been times this past week I have felt so selfish for not responding, but I really don’t know what to say. I’m not okay, but I’m trying my best to pick up the pieces.

The ‘Best Mother Ever!’ mug with tea has helped calm me and helps with my throat after it being irritated during surgery. Of course Jensen bear has been close to me, mostly in my lap.

Flowers my mom brought me before surgery.

I don’t know what’s going to be happening with me in the immediate future. Obviously I’m focusing on my body’s recovery and trying to get a handle on my grief. My next appointment will hopefully give me some answers as to what happened or if there’s anything wrong with me. With Jensen I had a ton of testing on me and there was nothing that popped up. I’m really just at a loss mentally as to what happened, even though I know sometimes babies just die.

For now, I just want to say thank you again for all your support. There’s a few things I want to blog about with this experience, but I wanted to update with how I’m doing first. If there’s anything I could tell someone though is miscarriage, stillbirth, and loss in general sucks. It hurts and no matter what.


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