I’ve been thinking about the two miscarriages I suffered quite a bit lately after reading this post, and because three of my friends are early on in their pregnancies right now. After Weston was born I suffered two miscarriages. In both cases, I was about 8 weeks along.
For me, coping with the loss of a pregnancy amounted to a fairly brief period of intense sadness. Once I got past the first trimester of pregnancy with Garrett, I felt like I was finished with the process of grief, but certain things will still bring those feelings back. For instance I found myself in tears on the phone with a friend one day who was considering terminating a healthy pregnancy because she had just begun her relationship with the baby’s father. The idea of choosing to end a pregnancy is abhorrent to me after having that choice taken from me on two occasions. Apparently my tears made an impression on her, because her beautiful baby girl will be a year old in October.
After reading the follow-up to the post, I considered my own approach to coping with the loss of two “potential children”. That is what a lost pregnancy is; the loss of who that child could have potentially been. When I look at the child I did end up with I can’t be sad about the two I didn’t have. There is some sort of magic about Garrett that is impossible to miss. If two miscarriages are what I had to suffer to have him in my life every day, the price was worth paying.