I think one of the worst parts about having a miscarriage is the fact that there will still always be women who are pregnant and having babies around you. Whether it’s friends, family, or that stranger in the grocery store…you’ll see them everywhere. And as much as you want to be happy for them, as excited as you might be for them, you can’t help but have an overwhelming bitterness about the fact that someone else is going to have a baby and it feels like you never will.
I hate that this happened to a friend of mine, but prior to knowing one another she had two miscarriages. She was one of the first people who knew about our pregnancy earlier this year and she was the one who took one look at my empty desk at work and knew what happened. She cried for us, she prayed for us, and when I came back to work she was full of hugs because she knew that there were no words that could be said to comfort me then. She was also pregnant again.
I have to say – and this is not to step on anyone’s toes or say that your words, hugs, and kindness didn’t mean anything because it meant and STILL means so much – but I have to say that seeing my dear friend every day helped more than I can say. She was pregnant, beautiful, graceful, and happy. And I saw that despite the horrors of miscarriage it’s possible to have that one thing that I still don’t know if I’ve 100% found: hope.
The other day we got to go see my friend, her husband, and their absolutely beautiful 3-week-old baby girl. My heart was swollen with happiness for her as I watched them lovingly change her diapers, calm her down as she cried, feed her, swaddle her and love her. But it was also swollen with that same gift that my friend gave me before.