Tori Amos wrote a whole album about miscarriage. In an attempt to describe the source of the pain and confusion she said in an interview "you have been pregnant, but you are not a mother". I have know women who faced this terrible reality. For these women the pain is so fundamental, so primal that my heart literally aches for them.
I learned today that my friend had a miscarriage in her 13th week.
The ache in my heart is back, but in an unfamiliar way. It is Jules this time, my Jules...OUR Jules. Intellecually, I know how much she is hurting and the feelings that are yet to come. What can I do for her? All I want to do is hug her and make her hot cocoa and rub her back until she falls asleep. Instead I am crying for her (really am) from 3000 miles away. I feel powerless to reach her and assuage her pain even as I feel my own heart breaking for her. One of "us" has died.
Every month I observe rather complacently as one more chance to make a baby passes me by. And sometimes I feel hopeless - it may never happen for us. But to have had another person in my life for 3 months, anticipating meeting them and building a life around them, and then having to say goodbye for no known reason...it's more grief than I can tolerate to imagine.
2 Lovies:
I'm so sorry. I struggled with the distance as well when my best friend miscarried 5 states away. I hate being so far from friends, especially when they're having a crisis. I'll be keeping her in my prayers.
I'm so sorry for your friend's loss. It's a terrible pain.
Just be there for her. Call her. Even if you don't think she wants to talk, call her. She needs to know that people are there for her. Let her talk. Or not talk. I know that that was the best for me. Even though my BFF had never been through a miscarriage, she called every day just to check on me. It was so good to know someone cared about our pain and acknowledged the loss. Just be sure not to bring up "god's plan" or "at least you know you can get pregnant." Those words sting.
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