Quota

It’s like there is a a daily quota of suffering and crying that I have to fill. After I fill it, the rest of the time is not that horrible. The problem for now is that the quota is growing. I know it will start getting shorter eventually. Just not yet.

16 thoughts on “Quota

  1. Your posts are very moving, and you have been so generous sharing your experience with us. I remember vividly how uncomfortable people were talking about miscarriage back when my then-wife had one back in 1986, on Christmas Eve. It was a desolate feeling. Reading your words is like receiving solace and empathy retroactively. It’s a powerful feeling. Thank you.

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    1. I think this degree of openness is a new thing, and probably a good one. I don’t think I ever spoke of my then-wife’s miscarriage in the mid-90s to almost anyone outside of my family. I still have rarely spoken of it, in fact.

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      1. I’m very sorry you had this happen to you.

        People have been sharing their stories with me, and I’m discovering that this is not an infrequent thing to happen. It rarely gets discussed which is why I had no idea it was even possible until it happened to me.

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  2. I think it’s a good sign that you are able to aritculate that this intense pain will abate at some point. You really are strong. And, like Bob Basil, I feel very privileged as a reader that you are sharing your journey with us.

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  3. This discussion is reminding me that I have known a few women who have had what were called “stillbirths.” This was before the existence of ultrasound technology, so they would probably have had no way of knowing in advance that the fetal heartbeat had stopped. In at least one case, the family in question blamed the attending physician and tried to get the state medical board to revoke his license to practice medicine.

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    1. I have no complaints to make of my doctors. I can’t imagine what they could have possibly done to make things different. It would be easier to have somebody to blame or to know the reason why this happened. But trying to convince myself that there was a reason would just delay the inevitable realization that sometimes there is no reason.

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      1. I was not suggesting that you blame your doctors. My point was that what happened to you may well have happened to other people who did not find it out until a baby was born dead. It may have seemed logical to blame the physician present at the time, when there was no apparent evidence that something had gone wrong days earlier.

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  4. I have a friend whose first child was stillborn. It happened years ago and it still hurts for her, but it has gotten better. She went on to have three healthy children. I don’t know if having other children is what you want or if you’ve thought about that possibility yet. But this loss will never quite leave you. It will become more and more bearable over time, but this is the kind of thing that is impossible to get over 100%

    I admire your candor about this painful loss. Eric will never be forgotten. Not by you. Not by us. Love to you!

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    1. I had a first trimester missed miscarriage and a D&C before my third child. While it cannot be compared to what happened to you, I can tell you that I felt betrayed by my body, angry, broken. There was nothing else I could think of for several months. I actually got pregnant quite quickly afterwards, and spent the whole pregnancy in a state of suspended belief, to not let myself get too excited.

      As others shared above, miscarriages are hard because often no one even knows you are pregnant, so there’s no one to tell, and even if you do tell, they mostly say “Well, early miscarriages are very common.” Well duh, intellectually I know that, but emotionally it still hurt horribly and probably would have for a long time had I not gotten pregnant quickly thereafter. Once that baby was in my arms the pain did get much better.

      You will get there, in time, and sooner than you think. In the meantime, big electronic hugs!

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