Based on my experience with Cale, grief comes in waves. Some waves are small, easy to deal with, just barely getting your toes wet. Other waves can be huge, enveloping your whole body and churning you underneath the water until you feel like you can't hold your breath for one more second. And other waves are simply waves; they roll in, get you wet, and then roll back out again.
I never thought losing a baby to miscarriage would be anything like that. I just assumed it would be one of those huge waves that takes you under water until you feel like you can't hold your breath for one more second, and then it would release you into the fresh, oxygenated air. This weekend, though, I realized that even this type of grief can show up at any time, in any form, completely unannounced.
On Saturday my friend had a baby shower for her new baby boy that is to arrive at the end of October. I've known about the shower for quite some time and have had multiple discussions with my husband, and even my therapist about whether or not I should go. They both agreed that it would be healthy for me to go, and maybe even easy. The whole night before the shower and then the morning of, I had a huge pit of anxiety rolling around in my stomach. I was irritable and snappy towards my husband and kids and I couldn't really pinpoint an exact good reason. I just wanted to go to the shower and get it over with.
The shower itself was fine. My best friend who hosted it did a wonderful job and everything was beautifully set up. The mother-to-be looked glowing and everyone was excited to finally celebrate this baby boy she has been carrying for nine months. Naturally, I am a very compassionate, empathetic, and cheerful person but I know none of those qualities exuded themselves that day. For reasons I can't even explain, I started tearing up while the mom began opening up her gifts. Seeing the tiny clothes and fun teething toys just hit me and no matter how hard I tried to stop them, the tears started welling in my eyes.
"I hate this, Erica. Stop it! You're here to support your friend, not be the downer of the party." I truly was embarrassed by my emotions and after I realized that I wasn't going to be able to fake my way through the rest of the shower, I quietly made my exit.
As soon as I got home I decided to go for a run because exercise generally makes me happy. And it did, for a brief moment.
Sunday must have been the compilation of everything that had gone on the day before. I was exhausted; not just tired, but completely and utterly lacking of any reserve of energy. I cried multiple times throughout the day and never could quite fully explain to my husband what was going on. How can you explain something to someone when you yourself don't even understand it? I hate the person I was yesterday and to be honest, I just want the sadness to go away so I can go on being the Erica I am proud of. I don't want to have to go to bed at 7:00 just to escape the sadness.
I just want my life back, as if that baby never started to grow inside of me in the first place...as if I never had the chance to start loving it before it was taken from us.
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