Mourning, a second child loss
I bled for 4 and a half weeks. After my second miscarriage. In a strange way, it had become a constant, every time I would pull my panties down I’d see blood. Blood. The sight of which makes me panic and all dizzy. My life likes to really challenge me, forcing me to live with things I hate and without things I love, my two lost children.
When I was pregnant a second time, it was for two months. I got used to that, the nausea, fatigue and a tingling happy feeling about the new baby. When I lost that feeling, I mourned it for a very long time. I’m still mourning it. I often think back to those days when I felt all weird and foggy, moody with the bitter-sweetness of knowing an ongoing pregnancy makes that normal. I miss that, the second time around I was very worried I’d miscarry again but still, I was so happy to meet my baby.
I keep craving sugar these days a lot, and dairy too. I think my body needs it to feel some sense of joy, that my losses have deprived it of. But I’m lactose intolerant and my body gets sick from too much sugar. But rn I actually couldn’t care less. I just want my sugar and dairy. Funny, I don’t even have any such foods in my house. My husband likes to eat some cream biscuits once in a while. but he’s eaten them. I’m just sitting here writing this with my very last closest option to fulfil my dairy and sugar cravings, his glucose biscuits. It’s a bit sad and it’s already hurting my tummy and I can’t stop thinking about how it has no nutrients but somehow fills me up. ugh.
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Blood! yes. I had to eat a second round of abortion pills to get rid of the last of the pregnancy tissue left in my uterus that wouldn’t let the bleeding stop. Thankfully after that, the bleeding stopped. Yes, I say thankfully because can you imagine bleeding every single day for four weeks? what that’ll do to your body? …but still, it gave me some kind of consistency. And also reminded me that my second baby was real, she was really there. Despite people saying, ‘it’s been so long, get over it’ or ‘it was early, it’s normal, it doesn’t matter’ or calling it ‘products of conception’ that need to pass.
My baby girl was real.
She tried very very hard to grow. I know she did. it’s strange all the little things one gets attached to and then mourns. Humans, we love some structure, some consistency. We do not like things to change so much. Well of course when things are good it’s the last thing we want, change. And even though life keeps reminding us through said change that things will in fact always change we still get attached and keep hoping it won’t happen this time. Hope is a very powerful thing if you can be hopeful of a good future, a good life, a good career, whatever. But also dangerous sometimes I think. Being hopeful for something that may never happen, holding on to your mindless hope, praying it does work for you, that’s quite dangerous. I’ve been told, ‘Just think positive, it will only happen if you’re positive.’ I’m like WTF do you know sister? I was hella positive during my first and my second pregnancy, both went to shit. Both of them did not work out. Positivity ain’t working it’s trick no more.
But I will to not feel sorry for myself anymore. Somedays I still just cannot help but scream into the sky, WTF DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS? HOW CAN I FIX THIS? WHY ME? WHAT DID I DO SO WRONG TO ENDURE SO MUCH PAIN? No amount of bad Karma can make this pain okay. none.
yet it’s here and I’ve to live with it for a while. Journey in the same train till one of us changes tracks.
