I am desperately trying to move on, to genuinely smile again.
I never saw two lines on a test. That night it was so awkward to look at them; I remember I was kind of numb, uncertain, outside my body. The following days were filled with joy: finally something beautiful was about to happen to me too. I am about to get married and I was already looking for maternity wedding dress. How to change the furniture, what items were absolutely essential…I felt already a mum in every single way, I wanted this baby so hard. My sun, my everything. The first scan at 6 weeks showed just an empty sac. The obgyn said something like “we should wait but to me this is not a viable pregnancy”. I felt so numb, once again. I searched all the Internet to find positive stories of women who had on their lap their alleged blighted ovum. And I was so desperate.
During my second scan the situation was so different. At 8 weeks there was an embryo beating. My sun, my everything I thought. Here it is. Maybe that was happiness after so many awful situations in my life. It was so quick. Third scan was not ok. “The problem is that I do not see a beating heart”. I will never forget those words. She was very kind to me, but everything seemed so sharp, too blunt, too hard. I went for a D&C after 2 very long weeks of just waiting, with my baby still inside of me and a body who seemed to not have realized that I was not pregnant anymore.
And people comments. That was the hardest part. No one seemed and still seem to understand me and my grief, my need of time, space, kindness. I remember waking up after the surgery and suddenly saying to the nurse “where is he”. Then I realized and cried so bad. I am desperately trying to move on, to genuinely smile again. But I am not still in that phase. It seems like a perfect storm: this excruciating experience, then my work which makes me feel so useless, my totally unsupportive family, the house filled with problems, my soon-to-be husband, miles away with his mind. This too shall pass. I think. Honestly I do not know. I am finding hope in the stories of other women. So I am talking to them, as they are talking to me. I know, I feel you. I am so deeply sorry for your pain. I hope all of you, me included, will find a rainbow, not necessarily a baby, just a rainbow, something, someone to live by, lightening our path.
By, Sara
