TFMR: The Aftermath
The Saturday before we were told our baby wouldn’t live, we had emptied out our guest room, in preparation to start on the nursery. V wanted to get it done early so we weren’t scrambling during the final weeks of pregnancy. When we realized we would not be painting the walls and figuring out where to put the crib, I couldn’t bring myself to put anything back in that space. So, we bought an air mattress.
The day of my surgery, we were back home before lunch since mine was the first of the day. So, we blew up our new air mattress in the living room and spent the rest of the day there. We binge watched Queen Charlotte on Netflix, and snacked on a delicious Italian feast my dear friend had dropped by for us. As I mentioned at the end of my last post, the physical recovery was easy enough. I felt essentially back to normal within a couple of hours of my surgery. I never had any cramping or pain, just some light bleeding for the first week or two. However, the mental and emotional recovery is still ongoing as I write this post, and will likely always be from what I understand from those who have walked this path ahead of me. Have you ever heard someone talk about being lonely even in a crowded room? That’s kind of what it felt like waking up from surgery and in the days that followed. I cannot describe the empty, hollow feeling I experienced, knowing that my baby was no longer with me. I cried off and on in the week that followed, and to be completely honest…I still cry off and on. Yesterday was an especially hard day. That is to be expected though. I know that some days will always be harder than others. For example, will I ever not feel extreme pain on October 6th (Archie’s due date)? Will May 18th (the day of my D&E) ever feel normal moving forward? Will I ever not notice the date on February 2nd (the day I found out I was pregnant with my first baby)? I know that Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas will likely be excruciating this year. We were supposed to have a newborn. Instead our arms will be empty and our hearts will ache. I worry about how I will feel when I (God willing) hold my second baby in my arms for the first time. Will I think of Archie? I don’t have all the answers, in fact I have very few of them. I’m certainly no expert on grief or loss, but I do want to share what has helped me so far.
The day after my surgery, V and I ventured out to one of our favorite places (Barnes & Noble) for a little retail therapy. But, first we had lunch at the nearby Mexican restaurant. At some point during that meal, I realized I was not ready to be out and about. By the time we were done with lunch and shopping, I was spiraling. I needed to be in the safety of my house. I needed to be away from people - away from ALL the pregnant women and baby strollers that now seemed to cross my path. Because I felt so normal physically, I had assumed I would be fine to get out of the house. So, this is your reminder to take your time. If you are grieving, give yourself grace. Don’t push yourself to jump back into the swing of things the next day, or even the next week. It’s okay if you need time. I don’t think I left our house (other than to pick up Archie’s ashes) for the next week. My bestie came in to town the Sunday, following my surgery on Thursday. She stayed with me all week, while V returned to work. V, my bestie, and I had all agreed I didn’t need to be by myself all day. It wasn’t until Thursday that my bestie pushed me to get out of the house. She went with me to get my nails done and took me to Target to pick up a few things. Otherwise, we spent the week on the couch. That was what I needed. I needed someone to just sit with me. She told me at the end of the week that she felt bad we hadn’t gotten out and done more. But, that week was exactly what was necessary for me to begin the healing process. I took naps. I stayed off of social media. I cried when I needed to. It’s so true that sometimes you just need someone to sit with you. No talking. Just sitting. And, sometimes you need someone to talk and cry to, as well. My bestie met all of these needs and more. She unloaded the dishwasher, offered to help with laundry, helped pick up the house… I will never ever forget those things. You will always remember who was there when you needed them the most.
My best friend and her husband offered to take us on a getaway that weekend, and we accepted. By that point I was ready to get out of the house, and V and I both felt that a change of scenery would do us good. We all met up in Hilton Head, SC. They flew all the way from Wisconsin to see us, and again…sit with us. We sat in the Airbnb, we sat on the beach, we sat at the Salty Dog Cafe. They just loved on us, and kept us distracted. I’ve learned that sometimes you have to take a break from grieving, even if it’s just for a few hours or days. For the 72 hours we spent with them, I was able to set my grief aside (for the most part) and just be present with some of my very favorite people. When they flew home on Monday, V and I stayed in Hilton Head. My parents had offered to send us away somewhere for a week, and we chose Hilton Head since we had never been. Spending that week away was honestly the best thing that we did. I cannot express how healing it was to spend that one-on-one time together. We needed to be away from our house, from our routines, from our regular food and from people. We sat on the beach for hours and hours that week. We read books, and talked, and cried. We ordered an insane amount of room service, and we binge watched the new season of Selling Sunset. My birthday just so happened to fall in the middle of that week, as well. It was a very different birthday than I had planned. We originally had a doctor’s appointment scheduled on my birthday. I remember thinking how special it would be to see little Archie on my birthday. Instead I journaled my angry thoughts at God, while sitting in my beach chair drinking Pink Whitney. V received five days of bereavement, which was incredible. Thanks to that, our best friends, and my parents, we had a truly healing week away. By the end of the week I was ready to be back at home, and fall into some sense of a routine.
Our adorable Airbnb in Hilton Head, SC
One month after we were told Archie wouldn’t live, I announced (on social media) what the past four weeks of our lives had entailed. I was nervous and hesitant to share, but I had posted so much about my pregnancy on Instagram, TikTok and Facebook that I knew I needed to say something. Quite a few people had realized I’d gone completely MIA, with no warning, and assumed something was wrong. The outpouring of love and support that we have received since that initial post has been nothing short of amazing. I had no idea how much I needed to hear people say “I’m sorry”. I didn’t realize how comforting it would be to have friends and family acknowledge our loss, and I was truly shocked by how many people reached out, sharing their own stories of miscarriage, loss, etc. I know not everyone feels this way, but I so appreciated people sharing their stories with us. It made me feel so much less alone. If so many other people had gone through something similar, surely we could survive this. A lot of those people have other children too. I remind myself of this often, when I start to feel hopeless. I worry if I will ever have a healthy child. It feels more likely that something will go wrong than not. I desperately want to be pregnant again, but I have so much fear and anxiety. I know I will not have a moment of peace until we have a healthy anatomy scan at 18 weeks, and even then…there are so many things that can go wrong right up until birth. Not to mention afterwards. I am starting up therapy again next month, and I hope to work through some of these concerns and fears. But, for now…I’m doing the best I can.
