Tuesday, March 1, 2011


Today? I want to have a baby.

I want to have a baby so much it makes me feel sick inside.

Logically, I'm not pregnant and thus will not be having a baby today. Even more logically, I really don't think that's ever going to be an option for me. Most logically of all? I don't know if it's the best thing for me.

If you've read my blog for any length of time, you know that I've bitched about this particular subject for quite a few years. Before I had a blog, I bitched about it too. This is nothing new. I've felt like this for years. Years.

But it's also been okay for years too. Really. I've been at peace with myself, my issue, my problem for a really long time. The only other option was to go insane and frankly? I have crap to do. If it weren't for me? At least three people on this planet probably would never have dinner, ever. I don't have time to go insane.

I was so okay, in fact, that when I had a miscarriage this past January? I barely told anybody. What was to tell? I was pregnant and I lost the baby. Things happen. I didn't even really have time to process the fact that I was pregnant before I knew that I dropped that baby somewhere into the abyss. Somehow it didn't seem right to grieve something I wasn't expecting.

So I didn't.

Well, to be fair, I had a day or two of sobbing and feeling really sorry for myself. But other than that? I was fine. Totally fine.

Besides, having a baby right now didn't seem like a really smart idea anyway. I mean, The Boy and The Girl are almost thirteen. Would it be fair to them to bring another child into the house? I mean, they aren't the neediest people on the planet or anything, but they do have to have stuff like food and clothes and money for college. Also? I have so much to do every single day that I have literally no idea how I would be able to juggle one more thing. And a baby just doesn't seem like something you juggle. Unless you want the police to come to your house. Which I don't.

I would be an "older" mom, which seems so ridiculous I can barely stand it, but that's what all the articles on the internet say and God knows I have to listen to everything the damn internet says. The government is going to shut down in a few months according to someone (Fox News, probably) and where will that leave me? Up the proverbial poop creek with no paddle. No health insurance! Losing my house! Other assorted mayhem!

I told myself it all made sense. That I was okay.

Today? I'm not okay.

Today I feel sad. I feel lonely. I feel like I wish I had a small little someone beside me who wasn't going to be out of the house in just a few years. I feel like life is really freaking unfair and part of the unfairness is that I blinked my eyes and suddenly my little babies are going to be thirteen. I didn't get to enjoy them being little because my stupid ex-husband left me and I had to work so much and I didn't have any money and it all just sucked so much.

I don't want a do-over. I would never want a do-over. I just wanted another chance. A chance to make it better. A chance to feel less scared and sad and overwhelmed. A chance to have a child, from the start, with a man who loves me and would love his child. Who wouldn't leave.

Today I grieve for that baby.

I didn't even realize how much I wanted her.

It's not really fine.


Creamy Silver said...

It makes no difference if you were a little pregnant or a lot. If it was planned or a surprise. Every loss hurts. I'm so sorry.

Anonymous said...

No, it's not fine. And I am so sorry for you. I've lost that unexpected baby, and it is not easy at all.

Little Red Hen said...

I love you so much my friend, and I am crying and grieving with you. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow so that I may hug you in person!

kate said...

i'm so sorry for your loss.

Jessalee said...

I'm sorry you're hurting. It's okay to hurt and process. If you need to process it, you NEED TO PROCESS IT, right? No one can tell you what's the right or wrong way to feel or not feel during times like this.

We're leading parallel lives right now though, friend.

Toward the end of January I was saying a prayer one morning when into my head popped "the voice" that said, quite plainly, quite clearly, quite succinctly -- and not even on topic to what I was praying about, "You are pregnant." Three words, spoken so that that they were not to be mistaken.

I thought it was impossible. I tested. Negative. Cue the frustration directed at the strangely answered prayer that didn't even seem to be true. Was it a test? Was I making it up? Did I no longer really recognize the voice?

Two weeks later I'm tired, sore, boobs are on fire, and I get a very, very faint positive.

The next day I took another one to see a darker positive. And it was negative. The next day negative. Four next days later, and I miscarried.

My Jason knew. And that was it. I later told my mom and mother-in-law and one friend. The rest of the world, up until now, did not know.

My sad days came before I had the positive because I was feeling so frustrated by the answered prayer and the negative test. And I even felt a little excited once it was all figured out because it meant that I could still get pregnant (after five years of infertility! likely due to recent 32-pound weight loss... that's still going).

All of this to tell you no one can tell you how to feel but you, and what you feel is right for you. This is not my first time around the block in this type of loss. It's not even my second. But I can say I've felt differently each time, and each time, how I felt was OKAY and how I was supposed to feel at that time.

I just wish that women like you and many others had to know this kind of sadness.

(Feel free to not publish this -- I just wanted you to read it -- I don't want it to be like "ME ME ME". I just don't want you to feel alone.)

M said...

Oh honey I had no idea and for that I am sorry. More I am so sad for that baby. for all that innocence lost when you were young and having those twinfolk. For having to grieve (thougH i am glad you are).

Because expected or not? You would have rocked the world of that baby and I'm sorry you didn't get the chance.

I still hope, all the tiem, you do get that chance because I know how your heart aches for ti. <3 You are an amazing mama and an amazing person and damn almighty my heart hurts for yours. xoxoxo loveyou.

Nicole said...

Arggh. I. Know. I just, ugh, sigh, grunt. My heart groans in the same way as yours. Fuck.

Bethany said...

As someone who has also miscarried, let me tell you- grieve. It is appropriate.

Also, I am sorry and wish there was something I could do for you.

That "older mom" thing? Very ridiculous.

Sarah said...

I'm so sorry for your loss. Keeping you in my thoughts and prayers.

Jenski said...

So sorry for your loss. Creamy Silver put it perfectly. I hope tomorrow brings you happiness.

Meredith said...

I've also lost that unexpected baby, in June of 2009. I found out I was pregnant on a Friday, and started bleeding 48 hours later. It was the wrong time for me to have a baby, the wrong situation (my husband and I separated a month later), and a million other reasons why it was not right.

I have an 11 y/o and a 13 y/o. My bf has a 2 y/o. I'm 37. My fertility window is starting to close. I want another baby too. But I have all the same reasons swimming around in my head that you do. You're not alone, girlfriend. You are so. not. alone.

And it's okay. Whatever happens, is okay. I promise.

notsosmallfries said...

I'm so sorry. I want to wrap you in a blanket of love.

Dawn~a~Bon said...

It's not fair. I'm so sorry.

Bexterrific said...

I love you, and I'm here for you. Whatever, whenever. Say the word, and I'm there.

Unknown said...

oh Stephanie, I am so sorry :(

Jill said...

I'm sorry. I thought I was pregnant earlier in the year and was excited-- for 4 days and then my period came.. or whatever -- but I'm never late, so.. it probably was a pregnancy but it didn't turn out.. so.. yeah. It's a really horrible feeling no matter how short of a time. I don't think that your children will be harmed if you have another one, or adopt, or take in a foster kid, should you choose to do that. I think you'd be awesome at any of those things. All you really need to be a mom is to show love and give love and you can certainly tell how much you love your kids, and they are thriving.

Karin's Korner said...

I am so sorry, Big Giant ((((((HUGS))))).

Unknown said...

I know it hurts! I'm sad to hear about your loss.

Tamar said...

I'm truly so sorry you lost that baby. I'm also sorry you lost a chance at sharing the raising of a baby with a good and supportive father this time around.

Some days, most days, it will be all right, and then occasionally, the grief will rise up and startle you with its intensity. Just - let it come.

Elizabeth said...

Oh Stephanie, I'm so sorry. I've been following you for a while (since "Jason. For the Love of God.") and I know how you really want/ed another baby. This sucks so bad I can't even give it words. Big hugs.

Justine L said...

It doesn't matter whether you knew you wanted this baby or not. All that matters was that this baby was a small life in you ... and now it's not. And it makes infinite sense to grieve, however and whenever you need to. We'll listen. *hugs* to you ...

Kellie said...

I'm rather late to this party :(

Saying I'm sorry seems trivial and yet I am so, so sorry for you.

I will carry a baby for you. For damn real.

Unknown said...

Every feeling you had was valid and the only thing to say is, "I'm sorry."