by Ellen DuBois on 09/04/11
I went to the ER for bleeding on Thursday evening (8/1/11) only to be told I was miscarrying and there was nothing that could be done. They didn’t break it to me gently or build-up to telling me. They just blurted out I was miscarrying. I was so devastated that all I could do was cry and weep gut-wrenchingly. I went home and miscarried the next morning in my shower. I was devastated at what I saw and devastated that it is my THIRD miscarriage. I feel so torn apart and my emotions feel so erratic. I feel like I will never be able to carry a healthy pregnancy and I often wonder if my age is to blame. I am 39 and want a child so badly. I feel like my world is ending and I will never be able to recover. My husband doesn’t want to even think about trying anymore for kids and I am unsure of anything right now. This adds even more stress and devastation. I wish I could just run away from all this and it would not follow. How do I recover emotionally and mentally? I know the physical will heal eventually. I can’t stop crying and I can’t sleep. Everytime I step into the shower to bath, I relive/envision the miscarriage. Please help me, how do I bear this burden alone? No one around me understands and seems to think I should be getting over this quickly. How could they ever understand unless they have experienced what I have experienced or gone through what I have gone through?? Please help….please.
One thing I’ve found helps those who have lost their child to miscarriage is some form of closure. It could be planting a tree, (you could plant one for all three of your babies), or writing a letter to them, setting three balloons into the air in their memory. It may be much too soon for this, but I know after years with no closure, I finally felt some when I released a balloon into the air for my son and read him a letter. Time will gently tell you if and when it’s right for you. Just follow your heart.
Right now, I feel the most important thing is you and your healing. Also, taking things one moment at a time. What your living has many layers: Your grief, possibly facing not having a child (by birth), and healing on all levels from the three losses you’ve endured. That’s a full plate, Debbie. All you can do is your best.
One day, one moment at a time. I am here to listen, to offer what I can. It may not seem like much, but know you are heard, your loss is validated and you are cared for more than you know.
I’ll be keeping you in my thoughts and prayers. Please feel free to write any time.
Love and Light to you,