This blog is small glimpses into my heart and soul - attempts to be transparent with friends, and sometimes, to myself. This is my safe place, where I can come and be purely Ness.

Family: If you found your way here, please do me a favor and don't poke through my closets, ok?

Monday, March 21, 2011

Like a Breath - Losing Aliento

Last Tuesday, I started spotting, then bleeding, and Wednesday I passed a tiny piece of tissue that I knew had contained the life of my child. Honestly, I didn't think it would hurt as much as it did - does. I wasn't totally sure they existed, and I'd had a week to get used to the idea that I was losing whoever might be there, but the ache... It just goes and goes. I think the outside sees me as doing ok if a bit grumpy and short, but I'm not ok. I'm not. It hurts and hurts and hurts.
Things are not going well around here. I'm down and on edge, because of losing another baby and dealing with my FIL being sick, and Boy is on edge and down, because his Dad is really sick and he's lost another baby. (They are reverse for him and that's ok.) We're just barely supporting one another. Thankfully, Bug seems to be doing ok - nursing a lot more, but if that's all it takes for his world to be alright, we can nurse as much as he wants.
I couldn't handle telling all of my family in person (parents, four siblings), so I sent them a mass email. Every loss seems to get less response - one phone call from each sister and mom, one short question from a brother ("Have you thought about stopping?") For them it's just "again." "This thing that happens to my sister." Sometimes, even I think I should be getting used to this by now, and I'm surprised by how much it hurts, but it's just impossible. You can't get used to it.
What do I do with this pain? How do I handle this? I want to tell people, to get support, but not having any close friends, I'm not sure who to tell. I don't even know how to tell anyone. What do I say, "Oh, yeah, by the way, I lost another baby last week...?" There's no conversation intro for this. I felt desperate to talk with someone, someone who'd been down this path, so I posted a request on Facebook, knowing that I have "friends" who've been through this, but I got no response. Finally, in my need I sent a private message to a few ladies I know who've lost babies, and asked if any of them would be willing to meet with me. It shows how desperate I feel, because this is very out of character for me to contact people I don't know that well, to share intimacies with them and ask them to share with me. Thankfully, they were gracious to me and hopefully I will be able to connect with one and feel some freedom from this burden - this "secret" that I can't shout to everyone, even though I really want to.
Where is God in all of this? Really, I'm not sure. I don't feel "unloved" or "abandoned," but as the feelings that remind me so much of my depression surround me, I'm having a hard time connecting to him. I know I need to put more effort into that, time in scripture and not just the hasty, needy prayers I keep sending up, but I just. don't. want. to. Except maybe right now... when I don't feel like I have time. Maybe, he'll come and find me.

Baby, I love you. You'll always be mine. You have good company with your siblings there, and Jesus will hold you when you need holding. Wait for me. I will come to you.

Aliento (breath) 
 LORD, what are human beings that you care for them,
   mere mortals that you think of them?
 They are like a breath;
   their days are like a fleeting shadow.

Psalm 144:3-4


  1. I, too, am so sorry. I wish I was right there, right now, to wrap you in a big, tight hug. To be that friend you so desperately need right now...

    Please know I continue to hold you in my thoughts, and I hope for brighter, better days ahead.

  2. I am struggling with the same thing... I know there are more of my female friends who have been through this & I want to talk to them about it (thank God for outlets like these). But I am so sick of talking about miscarriage as being taboo. All hush-hush. Like we are supposed to carry it around on our own like some private shame.

    I am so, so sorry for your loss. ((HUGS))

  3. Thank you.
    I don't really have IRL girlfriends, as sad as that is. I do know two others who have had miscarriages, but one I don't really connect with and one has just had one, and currently has a few month old baby - so not really the people to talk to. And everybody else - just doesn't get it. I hate that I can't just tell people the way you would if anybody else you knew died, and I hate that when I tell people it's like it's Not a Major Deal. Sad, yes, but not the raw grief that my soul is actually going through.

  4. Vanessa,

    I love you.

    And while I know that even telling me about your lost precious little ones is probably emotionally overwhelming, which I understand and definitely respect, I do want you to know that at least on the level of raw grief, I relate.

    I also know that I am a hard nut to crack, but know that that's because I'm very soft on the inside, and in there, I always keep a special place for you (and Aaron and Dune, and your too-quickly-departed little ones).

    I don't expect you to tell me this stuff (this is now "pure Imogen," lol), because of many things, including (but not limited to) that I totally suck at responding to your pain with words, and hugging you from 2400ks away just isn't feasible.

    If I were there, and you'd let me, I'd just be there with you, maybe quietly (because of the above-mentioned suckitude...), but there. Just being. What else is there to do? The word "good" should never have come before the word "grief."

    I am truly, deeply, saddened for you and your family, not knowing intimately each and every one of your members. :(

    Much love,

  5. Oh, Imogen, how much I wish you were here, and I could just sit with you and share everything with you. You have always been a great friend to me, and I appreciate your love, even from so far away.

  6. Where's the tear-wiping smiley? I need one.


    You could always traipse up here... It's really beautiful. Cold, but beautiful.

    I'm going to send you an email sometime this week coming. :)

  7. You know I'd love to visit you! Perhaps someday we actually will be able to. In the meantime, I look forward to the email!

  8. I'm sorry you haven't been able to connect with someone who "gets it" and you still feel the need to vent/talk about it. It's ok to need to share, and I think that's normal. To pretend it never happened would be abnormal.

    I get it. I totally get it. I have been in your situation and have no kids yet. If you need someone to talk to in Ottawa let me know.

  9. Stella, thank you for such a kind offer. How much I would love to sit and chat with someone going through this right now. Unfortunately, Ottawa is a bit far for me (I'm more TO way). Very sweet of you. I hope you have someone to talk to as well.