Hope

August 2007-September 28, 2010…

Nobody Knew You

by Jan Cosby

Nobody knew you
“Sorry about the miscarriage dear, but you couldn’t have been very far along.”
…existed.

Nobody knew you
“It’s not as though you lost an actual person.”
…were real

Nobody knew you
“Well it probably wasn’t a viable fetus. It’s all for the best.”
…were perfect.

Nobody knew you
“You can always have another!”
…were unique.

Nobody knew you
“You already have a beautiful child. Be happy!”
…were loved for yourself.

Nobody knew you
…but us.

And we will always remember
…You.

Yesterday was a weird day and I couldn’t figure out why.  At first I blamed it on the nightmare that gave me a crappy 3 hours of sleep and so messed me up that I couldn’t fall back asleep until 8/9 am (although contextually, maybe my subconscious figured out what my head let me deny).  I slept a chunk of the day, but when I woke up it took hours to convince myself to get out of bed, and interacting with Ella was so hard that I found a bunch of errands for them to do out of the house.  I didn’t want to eat.  I couldn’t bring myself to shower until almost 7 at night (usually it’s my first priority).  When Ravi got home we did something we never do, which is play with E in her room (it was nice) and I was able to participate for the hour or two.  Once E was in bed, I started withdrawing again.

At bedtime in a casual conversation, I referred to Ravi as “the father of our child…children.” And then I stopped because the date hit me like a ton of bricks–September 28th is the anniversary of losing Hope.  All the misery of the day suddenly made sense…my body knew, my heart knew, but I had managed to hide in denial.  Ravi held me as I cried for as long as I needed, and then I elected to take a sleeping pill because I needed the oblivion and would never have slept otherwise.

Although Elanor is now the focus of this site, I don’t ever want to forget that I started the blog because of anther baby…Hope.

Little Footprints by Dorothy Ferguson

How very softly you tiptoed into my world.

Almost silently, only a moment you stayed.

But what an imprint your footprints have left upon my heart.

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2 Responses to Hope

  1. Rachel M says:

    I’m really sorry, I know what it’s like to lose a baby. We lost one at 14 weeks.

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