This past Sunday was an anniversary.
But not the kind you celebrate with an extravagant weekend getaway.
If you’re like me, it’s the kind you await with anxious trepidation, wondering what sick emotional games your head and heart will play with you.
A year ago last Sunday I suffered a miscarriage. It was the first (but not the last) time I would experience the realized loss of a living being within.
The bottle of Prometrium prescribed by the kind, helpful, and compassionate doctor on the other end of the phone with a sobbing, fretful, worried mother that night, one year ago last Sunday, still sits in my kitchen cabinet.
I still don’t have the heart to throw it away. Yet, I have no use for it. Seeing it reminds me of the baby. That’s not a great thing, but it’s not altogether a bad thing, either. It’s just… a thing thing.
Even though that first miscarriage ripped my heart out, and then I got an injection of Unexpected Hope only to suffer another Cosmic Sucker Punch, I have experienced a bit of healing in a whole year’s time.
But I don’t want to forget. And I don’t mean forget the babies (which I most certainly will not). I mean the pain.
There is something about the pain that is left after something that tears at your heart so fiercely. There is something about it that I don’t want to lose.
That sounds crazy, doesn’t it?
Perhaps it’s just the idea that this pain is the only thing I have left of this baby (of both of these babies), and the thought of letting go of it and moving on is just… well, shitty. Unpoetic as it may be, that is the best word for it. Letting go of that pain feels shitty.
If I can smile all day long every day (even when I’m looking at the damned bottle in the kitchen cabinet), then it feels as though I have nothing left of them. As if it does not matter that they were here one moment and then gone the next.
Fault me for it if you will, but nutty as it sounds – this pain is a tragically beautiful thing, and I don’t plan on letting go of it until I am holding my babies somewhere. Whether that is in some eternal dream or Heaven, or wherever else… that’s when I’ll release this gnawing grief.
Until then, that very pain helps me appreciate every hug, flower, and ray of light in this world. Because I’m a foolish girl, and when the light of the sun shines too prettily for too long, I have a tendency to take everything that’s good in my life for granted.
This pain? The way it lingers and sometimes flares up? It taps me on the shoulder and says, “Be grateful, woman.” It’s my reminder.
I refuse to even want to let go of that.
This past Sunday, I planted flowers for our lost babies, who we call Taylor and Davin.
They were purple alyssum, a choice made in order to simultaneously bow my head to another soul that was spirited away too soon.
I could want to be numbed (and some nights, I kind of am) or I could wish for complete healing, to leave these feelings behind and forget them.
Instead I’m going to hold onto what’s left of this pain, and when it feels the most raw, I’m going to try as hard as I can to turn that prism of pain toward the light, so that it creates the most beautiful rainbow I can make that effer shoot out.
#1 by Maggie's Mind on April 28, 2009 - 2:13 AM
Makes perfect sense, not quite wanting to let go of the pain when that’s what you still have to hold onto instead of something/someone in its place that “should have been.” At least that’s been part of my journey. And then slowly at time’s pace, the pain has become less raw, and I’ve been more OK with that happening and with not holding on so fiercely. Only in time, though. My time. And you’ll deal with yours in your time, in your way. Sounds pretty damn healthy/normal/right/good/fine/sane to me. Not that I know about sanity…;)
Hugs to you, Lotus.
Maggie’s Minds last blog post..Haiku Friday 4/24/09
#2 by river on April 28, 2009 - 3:48 AM
It’s only been one year Lotus, of course you’re still going to feel this pain. Just keep on healing. You may never stop feeling the pain, but as you’ve discovered, it gets easier.
#3 by lceel on April 28, 2009 - 7:08 AM
<3
lceels last blog post..Just a little stuff.
#4 by Junebug on April 28, 2009 - 8:03 AM
I understand what you are saying and I hope that works for you. I seriously have to let go of painful memories and only faintly remember them at times. I have a way of blocking those memories and displacing myself from them. I also can’t remember past things in detail very well, just a few vivid memories if I want to dredge them up. My husband has a perfect memory, he can’t forget anything. And that is one reason he has a hard time forgiving people like me. We are all different and deal with things differently. It’s not necessary or possible to change one another, is it?
Junebugs last blog post..Luna Moth
#5 by Athena on April 28, 2009 - 9:24 AM
Sounds like a perfectly ok way to deal with a painful loss. If it works for you and if you’re getting beautiful rainbows from it, it can’t be bad.
LOVE you!
xxoo
~A
Athenas last blog post..Madame Moustache
#6 by Cyndi on April 28, 2009 - 10:09 AM
Absolutely beautiful, Lotus.
#7 by Katie on April 28, 2009 - 10:23 AM
I totally understand. Letting go of the pain somehow means letting another piece of our babies go. Anniversaries, due dates, pain…sometimes it’s all we have to hold on to. I’m sorry for your loss, the anniversaries are hard.
Katies last blog post..Too green for me.
#8 by Jessica on April 28, 2009 - 10:24 AM
December 4, 2007 (this date started what would drag on for eleven days). About fourteen months ago. I lost my Momma, my best friend, out of nowhere, unexpectedly. Here I am, living away from all my family, and the woman closest to me, her days are ended here. I WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND IT. Why? Why would a 27-year-old lose her Mother, when she NEEDS her so much? There will never be answers.
But there will ALWAYS be hope.
I have always DESPISED the quote “time heals all wounds”….because it’s obviously not true. Time heals NO wounds. When I’m 80, I’ll still feel the hurt, the pain, the DEEP LOSS. I HURT SO MUCH because I LOVED HER SO MUCH.
Through my grief I have learned so much about it; that MANY people don’t know what to do with it!! In our society, grief gets passed around like a hot potato, nobody wants to talk about it, and it usually gets swept under the rug. Or it overwhelms us, because we don’t know how to live through it. I’ve still yet to find another lady to converse with about it…….because so many people don’t want to hear the HURT that I’ve felt. My ears are open to you, my blog-”friend”(assuming I can call you that!
if you need them.
Don’t let anyone tell you to let go of the feelings you feel. Though they shouldn’t control us, GOD gave them to us. And they are both terrible and wonderful. As HE is. Though it was HIS very hand that closed my Mother’s days here, I have never felt closer to Him since that day in December. Because I realized even more that HE is the only One who can both give life and take it. He knows my anger towards Him (and trust me, He’s BIG enough to handle it!), my feelings of betrayal, my hurt, my abandonment…….But still, He holds my Momma. And my hope is in knowing that I will see her again. Without that hope, I don’t know where I’d be.
FEEL THOSE FEELINGS you said you don’t want to let go of. It is a REMINDER of the love you have, and time will not heal it…..but with time I pray that hope becomes brighter to you and your family.
Christ BEAT death. That is HOPE. That our loved ones we’ve suffered the loss of here…..we will see again. It’s not longer a question of “if”, but “when”.
I’ll be thinking of you on this anniversary.
“Blessed are those who mourn, for the shall be comforted.” -Matthew 5:4-
I take comfort in knowing that though I will mourn my loss forever, I have the promise of comfort alongside it. Comfort to you, my friend.
Jessicas last blog post..
#9 by 'cuz I'm the mommy, that's why! on April 28, 2009 - 11:13 AM
((hugs)) on your anniversary. Love the choice in flowers. We always remember special people and occasions that way.
Keep turning that prism.
‘cuz I’m the mommy, that’s why!s last blog post..We’re Back
#10 by rachel-asouthernfairytale on April 28, 2009 - 11:34 AM
Love you.
The flowers are perfection. Your viewpoint is just perfection.
rachel-asouthernfairytales last blog post..Beef with Garlic and Spinach Stir Fry
#11 by Colleen - Mommy Always Wins on April 28, 2009 - 11:41 AM
I completely understand where you’re coming from. If only you had some idea…
Colleen – Mommy Always Winss last blog post..They’ll let ANYONE have a kid.
#12 by Malia on April 28, 2009 - 11:45 AM
I love, love, love, love you Lotus!!!!! You have an amazing gift and I’m humbled and thankful and thrilled beyond words to express how much I appreciate you sharing yourself with us.
Malias last blog post..Yanni Voices
#13 by Insta-Mom on April 28, 2009 - 11:46 AM
Just stunning. And ever so true.
Insta-Moms last blog post..The last small piece
#14 by Melissa on April 28, 2009 - 12:17 PM
I am nodding as I read through your post again. It’s not crazy at all; it’s so very human.
April 14 would have been the due date (of the baby from my first miscarriage) and that was a hard day, but I needed to just HAVE A SAD DAY, because I still miss that baby and I don’t WANT to forget. So I understand where you’re coming from.
Thanks for sharing this. *hugs*
Melissas last blog post..not a fair comparison
#15 by perpstu on April 28, 2009 - 1:42 PM
I understand completely. I always look at it as I am holding on too some of the pain so that the next time I am forced to deal with something awful maybe, just maybe, it won’t hurt quite so much because I already have a buffer. (((HUGS)))
perpstus last blog post..I’m flipping, I’m flopping!
#16 by Jessica on April 28, 2009 - 6:09 PM
Sorry for the typos in my comment earlier…I was rushed, but still trying to get a lot typed out for you!
P.S. I read your title to the blog again, and was reminded why “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” is one of my favorite songs. Hugs to you!!
Jessicas last blog post..
#17 by Tanya on April 28, 2009 - 6:18 PM
I havent commented for ages…
In a way its nice to do the things you are doing, you are helping yourself to cope and deal with what has happened rather than ignore or cover it up. Good on you for having that courage.
Tanyas last blog post..Kicking Peanut
#18 by Ree on April 28, 2009 - 7:07 PM
{{hugs}}
Rees last blog post..Brain Dead Exhaustion
#19 by Al_Pal on April 28, 2009 - 7:51 PM
Owwie. Beautiful post. *hugs*
Al_Pals last blog post..My new creative outlet: Bread Puddings!
#20 by Michelle on April 28, 2009 - 8:07 PM
It most certainly does count!
As you say, the pain makes the beauty in this life more ‘real’, we appreciate it more. Also, it is a part of what makes you who you are. You don’t need t let it go. You just need to be and do what you need to be and do.
Also, Braden benefits, because you will point out to him the beauty and the small things in life that matter. He also will know that there is loss in life, but also hope. Don’t ever forget the hope.
Thinking of you and loving you.
#21 by TentCamper on April 28, 2009 - 9:35 PM
I totally get it. and everyone deals with tragic pain in different ways. If it is working for you…keep it up.
Love your blog
TentCampers last blog post..Legal Drug Dealers
#22 by sam {temptingmama} on April 29, 2009 - 7:15 AM
*hugs*
Absoultely BEAUTIFUL!
Take your time. There’s no rush.
sam {temptingmama}s last blog post..CandySam in Indy
#23 by jennielynn on April 29, 2009 - 9:38 AM
16 years and three children after a miscarriage, I still think of that awful, awful day when I found out I was losing my first child. No name for her, not even sure she was a girl, but I sometimes wonder what she would look like, what the sound of her voice would be and how she would feel about me.
I think I’ll go plant a flower myself.
jennielynns last blog post..Hawpy Boofday to Yoooooo!
#24 by Jenny on April 29, 2009 - 1:31 PM
Beautifully written. Love you girlie!
#25 by anymommy on April 29, 2009 - 3:40 PM
This is such a beautiful look at your heart. I’m so sorry for this painful anniversary. I have these dates in my heart too, and I identify so much with your need to hold the pain close.
#26 by Zoeyjane on April 29, 2009 - 10:49 PM
Excuse my language, but fucking right. One of the things I hate the most about all of the losses I’ve dealt with is that each one has hurt less. So that this last one, only shortly after your first, barely felt painful. It felt like one of those “life happens” moments and I HATE it.
Good for you, I say, from my little corner.
Zoeyjanes last blog post..On Being Lucky
#27 by Joeythegirl on April 30, 2009 - 4:07 AM
My husband always asks me why I watch all the Sad shows, why don’t I turn the channel? Why would I want to watch what makes me cry? I think I now know, it’s feeling the pain which never leaves my heart, the pain that left my arms empty. The pain of losing my son Jack. I know that now because of you. It makes me feel close to Jack and now I know I’m not crazy.
Hugs on your Angelversary.
Joeythegirls last blog post..Today’s Horoscope, WOW!
#28 by Sherry on April 30, 2009 - 8:06 PM
This is such a beautiful reflection of your heart. The pain we have in our lives shapes us and forms us. I think of the Grand Canyon, and how the water that flowed through it took pieces away bit by bit and shaped it into what it is today. And it was a long process, and it was work, but the end result is beautiful and breath-taking. And the beauty of it comes from the fact that something massive was taken from it. You are a beautiful person and I am blessed to have stumbled upon your blog so long ago.
#29 by AnnD on May 1, 2009 - 10:30 AM
Your blog is the first blog I click on every day. I remember the posts about your miscarriages very well, they stick out in my mind. I couldn’t believe that your third was taken from you so close to that famous “12-week safety” mark.
I know I’ve thanked you before, but I’m thanking you again for writing them. I didn’t know it when I read them that I was facing my own loss just a month or so after you lost Davin. I remembered your posts; your tears, your anger and I was soothed because I knew what I was feeling after mine was normal. I remember your posts about flipping off the baby section at the store and I defintely have done that myself.
I got pregnant soon after my miscarriage in February, about two weeks later actually. I’m now having complications with his pregnancy that has caused some bleeding and I’m treading lightly; too afraid to put up a widget and too afraid to keep track of the baby’s development in a Pregnancy Week By Week book.
I love the idea of planting flowers in memory of the babies.
AnnDs last blog post..
#30 by Missives From Suburbia on May 3, 2009 - 8:57 PM
As it should be. Pain is what reminds you it was real — those babies were real — and not just a dream. It’s a bittersweet thing.
Hugs.
#31 by Texan Mama on May 4, 2009 - 11:16 PM
Holding onto the pain is normal. No one can tell you when to let go. You’ll know when the moment is right.
But just be sure that you’re not holding on so tightly to your grief, that you can’t grasp the beauty of life that is in front of you. Grief gives us the opportunity to appreciate what is around us. Mourning for what we have lost is a human emotion that is both normal and at times comforting. But the grief will never comfort you as much as the hug of your little boy or the embrace of your husband.
I hope you are able to heal soon.
#32 by Lisa on May 6, 2009 - 3:08 PM
Thank you for sharing. It’s been a long time since I thought about my own miscarriage (life will do that to you), but you brought back a shower of memories. I know you’ll be okay – sharing is one of those “power of small” things that, bit by bit, can make all the difference.
Lisa
#33 by Amanda on May 20, 2009 - 11:03 PM
Taylor and Davin are beautiful names. All those quotes you read about how pain and suffering are the pathway to inner strength, you know – you tend to think it’s a load of bs, especially when you’re really suffering. I mean, WTF would they know? They’ve obviously hit the big time what with their quote-writing careers and all.
But I think beneath the fancy pink bowtie and the pillow fluff, there’s some truth in it. Because that pain connects you to something or someone you don’t want to let go of. It’s hard to feel blessed when your babies were taken away from you. I know that. I can’t even begin to imagine the pain that comes along with that.
But if you’ve found your rainbow and some sort of peace that allows you to cherish every little piece of them you can hold on to, then hold on to that. Even if it means sleeping with that bottle of Prometrium. I know this comment is way past the year anniversary you mentioned, but I hope you allowed yourself to mourn, at least.
Love!
#34 by Javed ahmed on December 24, 2009 - 11:50 PM
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#35 by Warren on January 28, 2010 - 11:33 AM
wow, very touching. My wife has had a miscarriage. I know she’s gone through some pain. No matter what happens afterwards, the pain will always be there and we all take different approaches at dealing with it.. But, it’s that same pain that has made her realize how much she loves and appreciate the two beautiful kids we do have.
Warren´s last blog ..The Health Benefits of Oregano Oil