Picture

This is a picture that Grace drew for me a day or two after the miscarriage last May. As far as I know, Grace was not prompted to draw this picture to cheer me up or make me feel better, so her drawing it had nothing to do with the miscarriage. But, I have always thought that the timing of this little gift to me from Gracie was very fortuitous. This picture that Grace drew of me gave me an indication of how Grace sees me-- as smiling and happy-- when I desperately needed to be reminded. After receiving this picture, I brought it with me to work and I hung it in my cube to remind me that my little girl sees her mommy as a happy, smiling person and that I need to keep my chin up for her even when I don’t feel much like smiling for any other reason.

Being pregnant after having a miscarriage is far more difficult, emotionally speaking, than I could have ever imagined. Yes, this pregnancy has been going really well so far—I have been feeling pretty darn good, I feel the baby kick all the time (sometimes with so much force that it hurts), the baby’s heartbeat has been good at each of our checkups, and after two ultrasounds, we have been able to determine that everything looks structurally perfect with our son. I have no reason whatsoever to believe that anything will go wrong with this pregnancy and that we will not end up with a healthy child in March. However, a constant fear that wasn’t present when I was pregnant with Grace hovers over me now like a black cloud and has prohibited me from feeling all of the excitement and anticipation that I felt during my first pregnancy. It’s like things are less innocent this time around.

Sure, I am excited about having another baby…I feel a surge of excitement each time I hear the baby’s heartbeat or feel the baby kick or look at his ultrasound pictures or outgrow yet another pair of pants. I gaze longingly at little boy clothes every time we’re out shopping and dream of what they would look like on our baby. But, instead of splurging a little and buying some of those little boy clothes, I pass them up and make a mental note of where I found them so we can buy them after the baby is born. The Pack ‘N’ Play we received from one of my coworkers remains folded up in a corner unopened—I haven’t been able to bring myself to open it up to inspect it yet. I haven’t been able to seriously consider any names for the baby yet because giving the baby a definite name at this point makes me feel too vulnerable.

Maybe all of this is because the day I would have been due to deliver the baby I miscarried is coming up—January 9^th. Maybe it’s because my hormones are raging and I feel moody and morose at times the way it is, and that’s just part of being pregnant. Maybe it’s a little bit of both. I had a thought when I got pregnant again that somehow this pregnancy would erase the sadness I experienced when I miscarried this past spring. I was wrong. Those who told me that getting pregnant again after miscarrying would be the only way to feel better were also wrong. Those feelings haven’t gone away and I don’t know that they ever will.

I find myself looking at my picture from Grace more and more often these days. Once again, without knowing it, Gracie has managed to help me keep my chin up even when I am feeling my saddest and my most frightened. She reminds me that many, many pregnancies end up happily and that wonderful children like her are born. And, she inspires me to smile, because I never want her to picture me as anything other than her smiling, happy mama.