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(My) Miscarriage: What It Taught Me and What It Can Teach Us
“I didn’t get to meet you. I didn’t even get to see you. All I had were two simple lines… And they meant the world to me.”
To this day I still imagine what could have been. I would be six months with a swelling belly on this very day in which I publish this piece. I would know if I’m having a girl or a boy. I would have baby clothes, toys, and bottles riddled around the house, unsure of where I would store them away in our tiny duplex. All these things I almost had, but lost.
I think back to the first month when two simple lines brought us so much unbelievably joy. I remember how big my husband smiled while pulling me into his embrace, giving me a kiss and saying, “Oh my gosh, yes!” I think about how he placed his hand onto my stomach, excited and eager to feel a baby kick inside in the coming months. I think about how I would stand by the door to send my husband off to work and when we gave our usual good-bye kiss I’d say, “And kiss baby too!” So he’d lean down and kiss my belly and say, “Good bye, baby.”
As many ways that I imagined how I might soon become a mother I, too, knew that my husband did the same thing about being a father. Still to this day, though, I wonder if forming such an early and strong…
