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.