I am Grieving

I am grieving the innocence I had before great loss. I have experienced some of this loss when my dad died nearly 4 years ago. He was young, I was young, there was so much life that he was supposed to be here for, and I had to learn at 22 that what was supposed to happen doesn't change what has, and only makes the new reality more painful. I had to learn early that the world can have much more pain than we think we can handle, and after that, we cannot see the world the same. While some of the innocence can slowly return as time helps to scab the raw wounds we endure with loss, but there is always a small part that knows that the scar is still there, the pain life can give and you can’t fully trust that there is much goodness as you remembered. You can no longer say ‘well that only happens to those people, for this reason, ….it can’t happen to me’ but now you know better, now you know it can, and it does, and it doesn't care what else has happened in your life, how old you are, how good of a person you try to be, or any of it, it happens, and your innocence is gone.

I am grieving the excitement I had before great loss. This follows the innocence, and in many ways it is very much the same, but also different. As soon as I saw those two pink lines on the stick, there was never anything that could go wrong, the first time. We got pregnant with Josiah rather quickly and as soon as we learned of his existence, we were nothing but excited. This excitement was present at every appointment, whether a general check-up, an ultrasound or even the less comfortable appointments. There was always excitement with Josiah because we did not know anything could ever go wrong. We never believed it could happen to us, and honestly did not think that stillbirth was still a thing that people have happen, with all the medicine, technology, and care, we didn't think it could happen. This reality was crushed as we learned that our healthy baby boy was no longer alive. Even as they searched for his heartbeat at our 37-week appointment, I still did not know this could happen, as we walked down the hall to check the ultrasound, not being told yet of what the facts were pointing to, I remember being excited that we would get to see him again. I was excited until they turned on that screen and my heart broke as we saw the still picture. No flicker. No sound. No movement. He was still. He was gone.

Now I am pregnant with Baby #2. We have had some excitement, but it is accompanied with a fear. This excitement and fear have been present with each pregnancy test, especially all the ones that were negative. It is hard to only be excited when you know what can happen. We know what could happen. I don’t want it to seem that we are not excited about this baby because we are, and we are very happy and excited about this baby. But we know what we could lose. This partnership of fear and excitement are also present at every appointment as well.

I am grieving the hope I had before great loss. Again, this is similar to the grief, of innocence and excitement, but it is different. Tomorrow is our ‘big’ ultrasound with baby #2. I am 21-week along. Tomorrow we get to see the baby, for the 3^rd time (once at 11 weeks and again at 17). Tomorrow we get to start to call the baby, he or she, instead of Baby or it. Tomorrow is also the day that our hearts could be broken again. This ultrasound is more extensive and looks at the baby’s organs and how everything is going. There is no reason we have to think that anything should come up showing that the baby is unhealthy. There is also no way that this ultrasound could tell us that what happened with Josiah would happen with this baby. We think Josiah died because of a cord accident. An ultrasound could only prevent death in this instance if you were having an ultrasound as the accident happened. Maybe the worst part is also that there is no way this ultrasound can restore all the hope we've lost. It can bring some, but until I have a crying, breathing, healthy baby in my arms, I can’t know another reality.

I am grieving the loss of the family I don’t get to have. I grieve that this baby will not know its brother. I grieve that Josh and I don’t get to know Josiah more than we did. We do not know what our son’s cry sounds like, what his eyes look like or see his small chest rise and fall as he breathes. These are things that we will get to experience in the first moments with this baby, and we will grieve for a lifetime with Josiah. I grieve that I will always cringe when people ask me how many children I have. I grieve that I will never have a family picture with my whole family.

I am grieving, but I give thanks for that which I had before and have after great loss.

I don’t want to seem like there is no way I will ever have innocence, excitement, or hope again. I will, and each come back a little at a time, but I am grieving what will never be again. I will take hope in the promises of God and God’s presence and healing. I take excitement knowing that good things can still happen, even after horrible things happen. And I regain innocence as I trust in things that bring me excitement and hope.

While I grieve, I give thanks. I give thanks for the time we did have with Josiah. I give thanks that we are here again, about to see our little one and I give thanks that though I grieve, it is not all I do.