My pediatrician doesn’t know that I lost two babies. It was timing, really. Quentin and Theo have birthdays in March and September. I had only lost Nelle a few weeks before Theo’s well-child visit in the Fall and there was no reason to bring it up at his appointment. Then lost Iris before Quentin’s visit in the Spring. I was a few months pregnant with Autumn at the March appointment this year but, as I ended up doing throughout the pregnancy, said nothing out of fear that something would go wrong. I think it was a big surprise for the pediatrician when we showed up for an appointment with a five-day-old newborn. Continue reading
This past week, I have been editing some of my own writing. It is writing that I did in the months between losing Nelle and Iris. I found myself tensing up as I read my own words. I was still reeling from the pain of losing Nelle, pregnant again, terrified. And looking back, I know what is coming. That unfathomable doctor’s appointment where I learned that I had lost Iris too. I have to read through all of my fears that, in the end, proved to be true. Continue reading
I have had so many bad dreams. The one that reoccurred the most was a doctor telling me that something was wrong, or that I had lost a baby, followed by me screaming “No. No. NO!” I would wake from fitful sleep, often drenched in sweat or tangled in my blankets. Continue reading
It is 3:00 am and I just finished feeding my baby. Not because she woke up crying and hungry. But because I wanted and needed to be with her.
I had met a friend for dinner. Tucked the big kids in so that I was not leaving Ger to fend for himself with three kids at bedtime. There was pumped milk in the fridge. I spent a few hours away. Even had a glass of wine, a first in a long time. And the first time leaving the baby for “fun” versus out of necessity like running an errand or taekwondo class. Continue reading
“Your death really feels like a prison sentence…Upon the slamming of those doors for the first time, one fights and struggles and wrestles trying to get them back open – trying to get back to freedom and the world you knew. Then, once resigned, you decorate. You hang up a photo of something pretty, buy a plant, and drink a good cup of coffee. You move in for good and get settled. You’re still imprisoned so it all seems a little silly, but you do it anyway.”-from “Notes from a Cell with Flowers” by Julia Cho
The room trapped me. Swallowed me. Continue reading