As many of you know, I lost my angel baby Emery on March 25th, 2011. It has been 16 months since I lost her, but I still cry myself to sleep. I was never prepared for what came after. The doctors never gave me any pamphlets on bereavement and I didn’t have much of a support group. Most people didn’t know what to say, or never mentioned it again. For a long time, it seemed like everyone else had moved on, but I was stuck. The doctors had sent me home to pass her despite my requests for a D&C and on the 25th, I held my lifeless little girl in the palm of my hand. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. That was one of the most devastating moments of my life. But it seemed that only I was really affected. No one else was grieving like I was. I didn’t know anyone who had suffered a miscarriage and I kept getting told “just get over it, move on.”
Now most people know that if you mix baking soda and vinegar in a bottle then put the cap on, eventually the pressure would cause the top to blow. I was that bottle for quite some time. Everyone kept giving me the “stop being negative, it was only a miscarriage, at least you have a child.” And for a long time I kept how I was feeling to myself. Everyone else was over it, maybe so should I. But I had this nagging feeling that I wasn’t crazy, that maybe I was supposed to be this upset. That was my daughter, I had carried her throughout her entire life. From the moment of the positive pregnancy test, everything was about her. My body was her safe vessel and I was the captain. She breathed through me, was fed through me, lived in me. Every thought I had, was in regards to her safety and well-being just as I did with my Princess. And when she left us, I mourned her like I would anyone I loved. But despite the short time we had together, I loved her whole-heartedly. So every time someone would tell me how I was to feel, I would blow my top like my insides were baking soda and their comments were the vinegar and have a full on meltdown. And then I was told I was the crazy one. Had I lost a living child, would my grief been justified? Was Emery a second-class citizen because she died before she left my womb? And because of that, did she deserve a second-class mourning? I grieved alone because no one else would mourn her.
It wasn’t until her angelversary that I knew I had to do something about this. I was growing more and more angry with people. Why didn’t they understand? Who were they to tell me to let go of my daughter? You let go of someone who love and tell me how it feels when someone says to get over it. I knew I needed to find something or someone who understood. I began searching the internet for groups and people telling their stories and I found Faces of Loss. I was looking through its Groups page and I was able to find one in Toronto. I messaged the group leader and last night I went to my very first meeting. I have never felt more accepted. These women understand my heartache and my grief and all those crazy thoughts that went through my mind. They gave me ideas as to how to communicate with Hubby, how to grieve and ways that I could commemorate Emery’s life. I am so grateful for this group and wanted to write about it so that if there are any other women out there looking for support, it IS out there.