It is approaching 5 years. In October it will have been 5 years since my miscarriage. The thought kind of just snuck up on me. I was laying on the couch staring at the ceiling thinking, if I did not have a sonogram as proof, I probably would have talked myself out of believing I was ever pregnant. I never conceived again after that first pregnancy. And because of that sometimes it doesn’t feel real. I think, well was I ever pregnant to begin with? Maybe the doctors had it wrong. But then the image from the ultrasound pops in my head, and it’s like trying to look in the mirror and convince yourself the person staring back at you is not real.
My second youngest nephew reminds me of the child I never met. I guess that’s why I have a special bond with him. I found out he was on the way just a couple of months after my miscarriage. To be honest the announcement stung a little, but I truly was happy for my brother and his wife. His mother had already had a miscarriage and my brother had previously experienced the loss a child. My niece was 6 months when she died. Thinking on those things, I wanted to not feel the way I did, but I couldn’t help it. I was still hurting. But the day my nephew was born I was there to hold him and love him. He’s been my bonus baby every day since then. In some strange way, he helped with the pain of never being able to hold my own.
Five years and I still struggle with feeling guilty for thinking about “old news”. Five years and my eyes still get moist if I think about it too long. Five years and I still feel like I’m overreacting. Five years and I still wonder if it was a girl or boy. Who would they look like? How would I be as a parent? How tired would I be? How happy would I be? How rewarding would it feel? Five years and I still don’t know.
But I’m sure even if we have a child, for the one we never met, I will be still counting. 🙏🏾