Death ends a life, not a relationship.

I heard this recently and it stopped me in my tracks. I’ve been thinking of my mom a lot. Let’s be honest. She’s part of almost every one of my thoughts every single day. I wonder what life would be like if she were still alive? I found old text messages from her and was reminded just how much I relied on her to be my personal compass and guiding light. When my mom said I would get through something, I believed her. It’s ironic that her death is the one thing I can’t seem to fully recover from. And what I realized when I heard the above statement, it never ever will. It’s been hard for me to believe there is still a relationship between us because when I talk to her, I desperately need her to talk back and give me some of that mom knowledge she was so good at.

I feel like I’m failing C.C., like I’ll never live up to what my mom was for me. I also fear that the miscarriages I’ve had have officially broken me, spiritually, physically, emotionally, etc. If death ends a life, but not a relationship, then I still have a relationship with all of my babies that died, all four of them. My second trimester miscarriage is the one I’m struggling with the most. Brighton should be 2 months old now. I should be dealing with the postpartum issues I had with C.C., but hopefully be better equipped this time. I should be seeing C.C. dote on her baby brother. I should be having the content feeling that I was able to give us the family we’ve always dreamed up. I should be watching Henry marvel at the fact he has a son. Instead, I’m trying to honor and remember a son I never got the chance to be their mother, at least on earth.

I feel responsible for his death. I feel responsible for all of my miscarriages. You can continue to tell me it wasn’t my fault, and on some level I can almost believe you but, at the end of the day, it’s my body that failed to carry these babies and I have to deal with that. I also have to deal with the subsequent failed fertility treatments. For us, one of the most frustrating things has been not being able to get pregnant doing fertility treatments but getting pregnant on our own and miscarrying.

I look at myself and I am so lost in my grief. I am so depressed and I don’t know if I’ll ever be genuinely happy again. It scares me and makes me feel so alone. I’ve made it a point to let my friends and family know what’s going on, but somehow that doesn’t fill the void.

I think it’s time for me to take another break, to try and heal from the most recent wounds. We’ll likely start up fertility treatments again in the New Year but we may also come to peace with our little miracle. I never thought it would be this, but this is what life is.

Mom, I miss you and I love you infinity. Please watch over my four babies in heaven (just like you did your four babies on earth) and maybe let me have one more baby, earthside, soon?

Xoxoxo

Your sweetheart