Faith Is Not An F Word

AF arrived today. A day earlier than usual actually. I started spotting yesterday so I knew what was coming. I'm not really sad, although the blood does remind me of what I don't have. I just want to go forward with our plan. Protocol for this cycle is 100mg Clomid, CD5-9, with a trigger at O. Same as my BFP cycle. We shall see if I will be as lucky this time around.

To add insult to injury, as I was driving on my lunch break today, I noticed a car in front of me with a license plate that read "Mom 2 5". Snarkily, I said to myself, "good for you, lady!" Does the world really give a shit that you have 5 kids? Blame it on the PMS.

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You're probably wondering how the memorial service went on Sunday. DH and I were on edge the whole way there. The entire day really. We were both tense and not too sure what to expect. We wound up getting lost on the way to the church and our GPS went wacky due to low satellite signal so all of our tension and frustration culminated into an argument. DH couldn't believe I didn't print backup directions. I thought it would be a wasted effort when our $500 GPS is supposed to be so freakin' accurate. That's when DH responded with,"well, [the service] must not have been that important to you". Not important to me? Was he kidding? I was in complete shock and disbelief that he would say that to me. I told him that was a shitty thing to say as we were on our way to a service to commemorate our lost children. He apologized but emotions were running high.

My friend Holly and her mom were there waiting for us as we arrived at the church, 20 minutes late. I felt so ashamed. I was late to my babies' memorial service. How bad of a mother could I possibly be? I tried to put it out of my mind and focus on the pastor's words.

They showed video clips of movies and documentaries about miscarriage, stillbirth, SIDS and abortion. Right after we arrived, they showed the clip about miscarriage. They showed an ultrasound picture with a little baby in the womb. Little baby clothes. Making plans. And then finding out the heartbeat is gone. I just lost it. I could not hold in my tears anymore. I just burst out sobbing, uncontrollably. Snot running down my lips and chin. DH was on my right and Holly was on my left, comforting me. I felt embarassed to put on such a scene but at the same time, it is what I needed. I needed to let go of those memories. Let go of all the things I have been holding onto so tightly. Thinking about it still brings tears to my eyes. It is just so damn hard to think that my babies are up in Heaven and I can't touch them or see them. I want that control and yet I have to relinquish it. I can't keep fighting a losing battle. Nothing I do will ever bring them back to me. I just have to go on, the best I can.

There were so many women there. Some got up in front of the group and shared their stories of grief. One woman, who's 2-day old son died from SIDS, talked about how things get harder as time goes on - not easier. She sees everyone else moving on but she is stuck in time. She will always remember his birthday, while everyone else forgets. She went on to have another son but her baby boy will always be a part of her. A second woman spoke about her miscarriages and stillbirth in late pregnancy. Her daughter was there that night and had lost twins at 6 weeks. She said that despite her losses, she knew God had a plan for her. She was blessed with her daughter and another child that she may not have had if not for her losses. Another woman spoke about her stillborn daughter, who passed away at 40 weeks. She talked about her husband's illness that almost killed him, but instead, she lost her daughter, who had been perfectly healthy. She said her faith in God is what kept her strong and what kept her sane throughout the hard times.

Again, I felt the guilt wash over me. I haven't been to church in over a year - since DH and I were married to be exact. I believe in God but I never believed I needed a church to pray or live my life in a Christian way. And yet, while I sat there in the pew, I felt as though I had let God down. I felt guilty for not coming to a house of worship until now to grieve and ask for help. When I lost my babies, I blamed Him rather than asked for His hand to guide me. I questioned His existence, and asked why He would take my babies from me and give them to people who would knowingly neglect or abuse them. And here in church, I saw firsthand that I was not being punished. I had been wrong. And I felt ashamed that I had so easily cast aside my faith in my time of need.

The pastor spoke of the guilt involved with loss. He said guilt is the work of Satan. It made me think of how I was feeling right then. And it made me think about the guilt I've felt about my losses. Maybe I shouldn't have walked around the mall that day the day before. Maybe I shouldn't have worked and should have been on bedrest. Maybe I shouldn't have lifted that heavy box during that 2ww. All of those thoughts were knowingly wrong but I tortured myself by pondering my every act I performed during my pregnancies. And here I was being told I was absolved.

While it didn't exactly erase all of my guilt, it certainly put me more at ease. I felt cleansed in a way. My losses will always be a part of me but I felt like it is okay to start over again. Like I am being given another chance.

As the service concluded, I asked DH to walk the letters I had written up to the altar to put into a little wooden box, to be buried in the churchyard under a rose bush. The rose bush will be our memorial marker. I think that on the anniversaries of my babies' premature birthdays, I will visit this rosebush and pay my respects. I never held them in my arms and I never buried them except for in my heart. Now, I feel like I have another physical, tangible piece of evidence that they were here with me. That brings me great comfort.

On the way home, DH and I talked about what the service meant to us. We both mentioned that we thought we had now found a church we could belong to. A church that has recognized and repented for not being there for women who have experienced loss. A church that really spoke to us. We felt that was the most positive part of the experience. We also talked about how the service brought up feelings we thought we had conquered. We both admitted our vulnerabilities and talked about how regaining our faith could make the infertility battle a bit easier to manage.

And then DH mentioned about how the service reminded him of an old girlfriend, who may or may not have been pregnant and had an abortion. Again, I was stunned and sat in silence. Here we were, supposedly grieiving the babies we lost together, and he was thinking about a baby he may or may not have had with another woman? I was furious. To go on record, I am not anti-abortion. But I just couldn't believe that he would bring this up now. At this moment. I thought it was totally inappropriate. And while I'm no longer furious about the matter, I still feel as though he cheated our children. How could he compare children he made out of love with me to children he possibly made with someone (a) he didn't want a future with, and (b) who wouldn't even keep the child or inform him of the situation? Am I being totally irrational? When I brought up my hurt feelings to DH, he told me has a right to grieve a child lost to abortion just as much as to miscarriage. But that just stung. I don't know what to think of it. I only know how it makes me feel. As if someone else got pregnant by him and could've kept the baby if she wanted to. But I don't have the liberty of making that choice. I just don't want to be compared to her. I don't think I want to be compared to any of his past conquests. Am I just being selfish and jealous?

I am having a hard time dealing with this issue but I am trying to remain positive. He married me and we are trying to have a family together. One foot in front of the other. Day by day. That is all I can do. That is all I know how to do.