I put on jeans for the first time in literally months yesterday..long enough to take a picture and then immediately I took them right back off. Not because they didn’t fit or because they looked bad on me. But because I couldn’t look at myself.
I used to long for the day that I’d have my pre pregnancy body back. To have our baby out here earth side and have my body back to being my own. I wanted to wear all the cute things again and feel good about myself and my body. I wanted to feel sexy again for my husband (even though he thinks that of me every given moment). I wanted to feel like myself again. To not be in pain from throwing up every day and having acid reflux every night. I wanted to be able to shave without it being a chore to do because i could barely bend over. I wanted to look down and see a flat(ish) belly with no stretch marks and be ready for summer.
Now that I have that, I hate it. I hate it because my baby isn’t here with us. I miss my body that housed our daughter for 9 months. There’s nothing showing that she was snuggled inside me other than the C-section scar. And when I look at that, it just reminds me of the trauma I endured and the outcome not being how it was supposed to be. The trauma of going to the hospital that morning, feeling silly for going because I thought everything would be just fine. Then to not even being there for 10 minutes before they said I was having an emergency C-section and that I needed to call my husband and let him know. Having to go to the OR alone and witness all the chaos around me because my daughters heart rate was dropping significantly. Having about 8 nurses, my OB, the anesthesiologist all rushing around to get everything prepped. Being put under general anesthesia, remembering the excruciating burning feeling creep from my hand up my arm and to my neck as I screamed that I wasn’t falling asleep and that they needed to put me to sleep and get my baby out. And then I was gone. My husband got to the hospital not knowing what was going on but walked in to the nurses working on our beautiful daughter. And then to hear that they couldn’t save her as they placed her into her daddy’s arms. I always envisioned him crying the first time he held our daughter. I never imagined it would be tears of sadness as all of the dreams we had for her disappear right before our eyes. Knowing that he had the heartbreaking task of telling me, his wife, the mother of his first child, that our baby girl didn’t make it. As I sit here and cry just imagining how he must have felt and knowing how I feel as her mother, my heart breaks as I know what he witnessed is something that he can never unsee.
My body is my own again, and as you can see, I’ve physically recovered pretty well. However my body doesn’t feel like mine anymore without Mia. I don’t feel like me anymore without her. I don’t know how to be normal. I don’t know how to smile and eat and laugh and enjoy life all while knowing that my daughter wasn’t given the chance she should have been. Depression is a difficult thing to deal with. Grief from losing a loved one is hard. But the grief from losing your child that you worked so hard for is unbearable. Mia was a part of our lives well before she was in my belly. She was a part of our lives with every hopeful IVF transfer we did and every fail we had until we got pregnant with her. She will continue to be a part of our lives as we live every day for her.
People say I am strong. They say I am strong for being able to go through this tragedy. Unfortunately, I wasn’t given a choice. I am strong because of my husband and my children. I am strong because of our family and friends. And I am strong because of Mia. I have no choice but to be strong and brave even when my world seems to be imploding at times. But oh how I wish it was different. I’d give anything to go back into time when things were normal for us. When I didn’t have to show this kind of “strength”. Back when our daughter was still breathing.
Thank you to all of you that have been here for me and for us during this dark time of our lives. John and I are stronger than before and closer to each other than ever before. Mia has made such a huge impact on so many of our lives and she will forever be remembered and loved.
We miss you so much baby girl. We hold you in our hearts until we can hold you in our arms once more.
Love, mommy.
(And daddy)
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