Pain demands to be FELT

October is miscarriage and infant loss month...
October is also the month that I became pregnant 1 year ago.

I could be blogging about my 2 month old smiling or holding up his head, but here I am, writing about miscarriage and infant loss month.

I would love to tell you that it gets easier with time, but the ache never goes away. Sure, it gets easier to hold babies or see birth announcements without the kind of crying that makes you gasp for air and turn blue, but it always hurts. The aching hole in my chest gets smaller but I think it will always be there, making it hard to breathe. Every time I hold one of my nephews I think of Boston. What would he be like at their age? Would he look like either of them? Sometimes its hard to hold them or look at them too much, but more often its harder to let go of them or look away. My arms and heart just hold on, desperately aching for the baby I never even got to hold.

I think that is the worst part of the loss. Its not the loss of its little life, but the loss of its whole life. It is the future we missed that hurts the most. The birth, the blessing, the first sounds, first crawl, first steps, first words, first day of school, baptism, rotten teenage years, graduation, college, marriage, LIFE! I mean, we only think Boston was a boy and we hoped for and pictured him with red hair, but we don't know. He was only a 12 week old fetus when we lost his heartbeat, and he became a memory to us.

It is the middle of the night (morning?) and I'm up writing this blog because

A. I don't ever sleep, and

B. My heart is so heavy tonight, my chest feels too crushed to relax and/or breathe. I'm just aching.

I think what I'm finding hardest about this month is that I didn't expect to get here and still not be pregnant. I just figured that once we started treatments again- viola!- we would be pregnant again. Not so. And so year three drifts past us. Three years of trying and hoping and praying got me 3 beautiful months of pregnancy, but no baby. And as often as I point out all the benefits of being childless to myself, it is never enough to make me forget him. I just miss him too much. I mean, I don't sleep as it is, but my sleepless nights have no purpose. Oh, what I would give to rock a crying baby in the middle of the night. 

I know there is a plan, and hope is not lost. I know that this life is meant for learning and growing, and I'm feeling pretty educated. I know that somehow someday, probably long from now, some little voice will call us mommy and daddy. I know that you can't force what is not meant to be, and I know that now is just not our time. But I still can't help being overcome with this pain tonight. I can't stop it.

"That's the thing about pain, it demands to be felt."
John Green said that. He's a genius.

XO.