Coming to terms

It's been a rough week.

I think I'd begun to get myself ready for the emotional impact of a miscarriage when I started suspecting something was wrong, but I was ill prepared for the physical impact. It's a much longer process than I thought it would be. I'm still in the throes of it, and every trip to the bathroom is a vivid reminder of our loss. It's physically painful and exhausting with no little baby to show for it, and that makes it hurt even more.

The grieving process has brought me through the same stages I'd experience with any other loss - blaming myself, envy towards other people who are experiencing healthy pregnancies right now, questions about who this little person might have been. I've been surprised by some of these feelings, and I imagine it's difficult for someone else to understand them, considering I was only pregnant for such a short time. I mean, it's not like losing an infant, or a two-year-old, right? While it's true that the knowledge I have of my boys would make their loss more grievous, a bond still existed between the baby and me that is hard to explain.

I dreamed that I was pregnant with a little girl before I even suspected I was pregnant, so I had been thinking pink; hence, my reference to the baby as "her" in my previous post. Of course, at only 9 weeks, I had no idea whether the baby was indeed a girl. A little part of me wonders if that was my only chance at having a girl, and of course I then regret any feelings I had about not wanting a girl. (Gosh, our minds can be our worst enemies sometimes, can't they?)

We're hurting, but healing, and while I wish I could understand the whys, I know that God is in control and His ways are not our ways.