It’s been a long day of ploughing through with a fake smile, hiding what today really means to me. To share this is to honour the very one its about.
Kept up with a heavy heart I typed away in the darkness of my bedroom. This is what my heart had to say..
Two years ago today was the day the stick turned from reading positive to negative. I lost you.
I was devastated. But it sickens me when I look back and know that the only baby that will ever grow inside me -even for the short time it was- wasn’t fully appreciated, never truly grieved. I was devastated, torn apart, but there was a part of me that held this baby as a beacon of hope, that saw their worth as a sign of “better things to come”, as a stepping stone to being a mom someday. How little did I know that that baby was all there will ever be.
I regret that I couldn’t fully acknowledge your life and the loss of it as meaning everything, carrying its own worth, not as a means to an end. I lost you and comforted myself with the idea that the pain of losing you would be worth it someday because I’d have someone else. How horrible a thing to reduce my only to-be child’s life to. To act as though it did not have enough worth and love to simply let it stand alone. If I could go back, I would have let myself know the pain was actually not worth it because of something someday, but rather the pain was simply a true indication of my love for you and who you may have been. You were not a small glimpse into the motherhood I would fully experience someday, you were it. You gave me a few days of elation and excitement, a few days to breathe, to have my husband treat me as the future mother of his child, to caress my belly in wonderment as I had wished to do for so many years, to feel the sense of miracle, to feel as though possibility was true and not far away. You stopped my heart when “pregnant” stared back at me from the stick. You made me believe that the impossible may be possible. Losing you taught me a lot, it just wasn’t what I thought at the time I lost you.
You weren’t insignificant. You weren’t a means to an end.
There are no stepping stones to your life, there is only life. Life is lived right there on the rocks. You can’t wait for a stick to stare back at you like a magic eight ball, you can’t put your life on hold until it’s time to start living. You are missing it. Living like this isn’t living at all..the way I grieved you wasn’t grieving at all. I have to accept what is for what it is. I have to lean into all of it. The bad things don’t have to have some greater meaning, the pain is meaningful all in itself. You didn’t need a silver lining to make you beautiful. I know now that you were not significant for any other reason than the fact that you were.
You taught me that letting go isn’t something you do to reach for something better. It’s fully accepting what is and grieving it with all of yourself. Moving on only comes from fully letting go, and to let go you have to fully know what you are letting go of. I didn’t know what that was at the time. I feel like I let go too quickly, except I realize I never actually let go until now because I failed to see you for what you were. You were there so short of a time that you were hardly living, but you taught me more about living than I learned in the 27 years before you.
I’m not letting go because I want to move on to better things. I’m letting go now because I know you now, and I love you for everything you are. I am so thankful for every ounce of pain I feel because that is my love for you. And without you I wouldn’t have had that either. I thought you were going to be the beginning of my life, and in a way you were.