I’ve read story after story and post after post of the women who’ve experienced loss. And not just one, or two, or even three. Stillborns, miscarriages, medical interventions, infertility, child loss.
How many until it’s enough? When does it all stop, and every mom gets what she desires? To hold their little one alive, to see that perfect double pink line, for our bodies to handle carrying to term, for our babies to grow up to be adults, for the adoption to come through, or an extra room for foster kids. Why does it seem that for some people, having their greatest heart's desire is so tough and feels unreachable?
Is it so bad to just want to love another human? If not, then why does it seem so hard for that dream to come true?
It’s so hard to watch a mom screaming at her kids in the store and not scream back at her. Or see a pregnant woman smoking and keep quiet. It’s hard to watch moms feel exhausted and complain when there are thousands of women who would give anything to be in their shoes.
It’s hard to watch people get pregnant from an “oopsie” and be excited with authenticity. It’s hard to watch hot moms who don’t even look like they were pregnant walk around with their newborns when your own body feels like garbage and you’re 4 sizes bigger than you were pre baby and you don’t have your baby.
(I understand that if you’re a mom and you’re upset by the above, being a mom is tough and I’m not trying to judge you or make you feel bad for being exhausted or having a tough day. Your emotions are real and valued. But so are the responses and feelings that grieving moms/hope-to-be moms have to your emotions.)
You’ll never know what it’s like until it’s all been robbed from you. Until it feels like your body has failed you.
Breaths taken and hearts stopped before they were given a fair chance to beat.
Clothes with no one to wear them and blankets folded instead of swaddled. Rooms empty with no trace of life…or full, but the life in it has been removed.
When is all the loss enough? When do we get our shot? Our shot for the test to read pregnant. To make it to term. To deliver your baby and hear their first cry. To watch their chest, rise and fall with breath in their lungs.
When you get that letter in the mail saying your approved for that new house with an extra room so you can foster. Or the phone call saying your adoption is finalized. When will it be our turn…for our kids to make it home and get to live in the space we created for them?
As the tears flow down my cheeks, I say this to you mom and dad, or mom and dad in waiting: “One day, it will be our turn”.
Click here to read more of our blogs about stillbirth and baby loss. This blog was written by Angela Pichette. Angela is married to her husband, Brayden. Together they are parents to their daughter Lakelynn Journey.