This week I have been processing.

I’m processing my whirlwind weekend at BlogHer, which I will write more about later this week, and I’ve been processing the fact that it’s been 2 years since my miscarriage.

Strangely it seems like it’s been a lot longer than that.

Maybe it’s because I’ve come so far since those feelings of dispair, or maybe it’s because I try so hard not to let the pain that still lives inside consume me. Whatever the case may be, I am in a much better place now.

Several months ago my husband and I decided that we weren’t going to have any more children. This is still a hard decision for me, not because I know I want to have more children but more because of the “what could have been” factor.

I have a very close friend who lost her first child in utero. I admit that I never understood her view that with each child she has had since, it was her opportunity to perhaps get her first child back. That is, I never understood that thinking until now.

When you lose a child that is a part of you no matter how briefly, your heart longs to fill the void that is left. Rationally thinking, no it will never be filled but it doesn’t change your hearts desire to do so. Still, I know that it is the best decision for us and when my children ask when they are going to have a younger brother or sister I can tell them honestly that right now they need all my love.
[Read more...]

I’ve been very open about my battle with grief and depression since my miscarriage in August of 2009.

I’d be lying if I said when I read a story of another mother experiencing the same it doesn’t feel like a Mack truck hitting my chest.

Today was one of those days.

I read THIS post by Jenn Crozier on Today’s Mama and her experience so mirrored my own that I felt led to ask all of you that offered so much wonderful support for me to do the same for her. It was the support that I received from you, my readers, that has helped me battle the depression that attempts to overtake me on a regular basis.

So, if you feel led please go leave some words of encouragement. And remember, don’t use any of the phrases from my “What not to say” post.

Tonight I found out that a friend is pregnant.

I’m numb.

I can’t find that place inside of me that is happy for them. I can’t find that place that let’s me go up and say, “congratulations.” I can’t find that place that let’s me care.

I’m numb.

Last week my husband told me he was done having kids. He couldn’t bear the thought of almost losing me again and the fact that there is just as likely chance that it won’t happen again isn’t enough for him.

I’m numb.

I honestly had not reached a place yet to be able to decide whether or not I wanted to have any more children. When I sit down and think about it my mind doesn’t gravitate toward either side. I’m stuck in the middle.

When I sit and look at my kids, I thank God so very much that I am still here to watch them grow up. That they ARE alive and healthy. That with each day I have the opportunity to teach them something. Each day I can show them how much I love them even when they think I’m being mean and unfair. That I can experience their firsts right along with them from the first steps to the first loves and everything in between. That I get to love them EVERY DAY.

And then I start to think about not ever feeling that moment of excitement twinged with uncertainty when the pregnancy shows positive. Not ever experiencing the genuine awe that comes when you hear your baby’s heart beat for the first time. Not ever being able to watch in wonder as that little bean grows each time an ultrasound picture is taken. Not ever experiencing that sensation of a baby kicking and moving within. And never feeling that wash of emotions as you see your child take his/her first breath.

But when it comes to the end of my thinking and wondering what it is I want, I’m numb.

Perhaps, it’s easier be filled with the numbness than it is to be completely consumed by the ache and the hurt that typically comes along with thinking of August 4th and 7th, 2009. What ever the reason, being numb seems to be the only constant emotion that I experience, so for now I will grab hold of that and I will look forward to the day when God turns that numb person into a healed one.