The Day Our World Was Rocked

Today was the day that we found out our baby had died. The day that our dream of a sibling for Georgia was crushed. The day that we discovered that everything had changed.
Sometimes it feels like the slowest year in the world; other times, it feels like it's just flown by.
The overwhelming numbness that spread over me when my doctor performed that routine ultrasound... I can still remember every moment of it. Walking myself out to the carpark and sitting in the winter cold, no tears, just nothing. Waiting for Jason to come and collect me, because I didn't quite trust myself getting behind the wheel of a car. Trying to figure out how to tell my family, especially my poor sister-in-law, who had just found out she was expecting herself, due a week after I was. Just complete shock.
All this time later, and I'm only just feeling like myself again. Grief does crazy things to you, and it's true that we all process things differently. I've had people not quite sure how to react towards me, who seem like they can't understand why I've been such a different person since this all went down. I've had people surprise me with how understanding and supportive they've been, who have let me process things at my own pace & haven't judged me for the way I've coped.
It's certainly made me appreciate how good I had it with Georgia. I never thought I'd say that; but really, a couple of years of infertility, a couple of cycles of IVF, and a pretty smooth pregnancy; that seems like a dream now, compared to all the rubbish we've faced since getting back on the bandwagon. And if I never get pregnant again, I'm so glad that we had a safe and happy pregnancy the first time around - and most of all, a baby to take home at the end of it. She is worth it all.
Am I the same person I was this time last year?
No.
Infertility changed me. It made me into a person I didn't particularly like at times, and brought out some really terrifying emotions. It made me stronger though, and that's something pretty incredible when you think about it. 
But loss? Loss changed everything. When you've lost a baby, or babies, no matter how early or how late, your life is irrevocably different. The things you thought you knew, the things you expected to happen, they all flew out the window. Loss automatically puts you into a club that you never wanted to be a member of - and one that's pretty difficult to remove yourself from.
If you had asked me twelve months ago how I would feel about it all a year later, I honestly don't know how I would have answered. Part of me thought that I'd be pregnant again soon, that we'd do another round of IVF if we needed to, that we'd just get on with things. Another part feared the worst; what if that was it? What if we were destined to have two babies - and that was that. What if there was something wrong with us, or the baby, that made it difficult to conceive again? 
All I know is that I naively thought that the grief would pass a lot quicker than it did. For the most part, I'm doing okay. But sometimes, a memory or a reminder can steal the breath from my lungs. When I hold my nephew and snuggle his sweet little fluffy head, I'm so happy that he's here.. but I'm so sad that our little boy isn't. When I see Georgia doting on babies, and mothering her dolls, it breaks my heart that I can't give her the one thing we all so desperately want. When friends and strangers alike announce pregnancies, or have their babies, that same familiar feeling of sadness flutters in my heart. You can swallow it down, you can put on a brave face, but you'll never forget.
When it feels like everything is going wrong, it can be hard to pull yourself together and be positive. How do you stay positive when it feels like your whole life is falling apart, when everything that could possibly go wrong DOES go wrong? I don't know the answer to that. Maybe it's to protect myself - because hoping for a change, for something positive, can turn around and bite you on the arse when it all goes pear-shaped. But I've grown tired of being in this slump.. and whether people can see it or not, I'm trying really hard to keep things moving forward. 


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6 comments:

Candace said...

Sending you lots of love and light.

Becky said...

"When you've lost a baby, or babies, no matter how early or how late, your life is irrevocably different." Yes. This.

Sending love to you my friend.

Jess said...

So much love to you.

Heatherj said...

I've been following your blog for a long time now, way pre-Georgia. I have a little girl who is almost 2 years older. I was so sad when you lost your little man, and then when you lost another one. I was sad but I didn't really understand. Last December I had my first early loss, followed by a 2nd in May and now I get it. The due date of my first loss is fast approaching. I always just assumed that I would be pregnant again by the time the due date arrived... but I'm not. The sadness is unbearable yet still I go on. Big hugs Ali, you are not alone. Xxx

Non Sequitur Chica said...

"When you've lost a baby, or babies, no matter how early or how late, your life is irrevocably different."

Yep. I completely agree. I have two friends due within a week of my due date- that is going to be a tough day.

Rebecca said...

Infertility leaves behind many little scars that time will never really heal. Our network of friends and family is what we need to help us console our losses.





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