It's Been Six Weeks...What You Want to Say

It's been six weeks since we lost our baby. It's been six weeks since we had our future torn from us. It's been six weeks since I felt normal...whatever normal is...

Life after is hard after miscarriage. You join all these Facebook groups, miscarriage support groups, trying to conceive (TTC) after miscarriage, TTC rainbow babies...you expect to find solace in talking to people who have been through this and who can give you insight, and they do, but they are also getting their rainbow babies. Suddenly your timeline is FILLED with pictures of women posting their pregnancy tests...asking the group if we can see that second line.
And your filled with envy, jealousy, hatred and self-loathing.

Your friends have left, because they don't know what to say, so they don't say anything. Plus, you've kind of secluded yourself for the last, oh, I don't know, six weeks? So they probably think you're mad at them anyways.
The few friends who do reach out are just awkward about it, stumbling over their words. But it's appreciated more than they'll ever know.

You have so many things you want to say to the people in your life who don't understand, but common decency holds you back from saying them.

You want to tell your friends how much it hurts that they haven't asked. You want to tell them how painful it has been for you to feel like you are alone. That because you weren't able to carry a healthy baby to term you are taboo. You want to tell them that all you needed was for them to reach out and say, "I'm here. Whatever you need, I'm here." You want to tell them what they should have done. They should have brought you ice-cream and chocolate and let your cry. They should have asked if they could cook dinner or clean your kitchen so you didn't have to think about it. They should have texted just to say "I'm thinking about you. Praying for you. Love you." They should have been there.

You want to tell your husband how sorry you are that you let him down. You want to tell him to leave you alone. You want to tell him to never leave your side. You want to cry with him. You want to tell him to run you a bath, give you some chocolate and let you find a clearer head space. You want to tell him that this is all your fault. That if you had done x,y,z your baby would still be here. You want to scream at him, because he's the only one who will let you. You want to tell him that you never want to try again because the fear of losing another pregnancy is too much.

You want to tell your living child how sorry you are your body couldn't give her a sibling.

You want to tell God how angry you are. How hurt you are that He would allow something like this to happen to you. You want to scream and yell and lash out at Him. He took your baby! He took him. You want to tell God to give him back. To let you have your baby back. To take away this pain and anguish. To never let you feel this way again.

All these things you want to say, but you won't.

Because it's time to start healing. It's been six weeks after all. It's time to put that pregnancy test away somewhere, instead of sitting on you vanity. It's time to ask the Lord for His healing power, rather than telling Him how mad you are. It's time to ask for peace. It's time to ask forgiveness for being a bad friend yourself. It's time to take steps towards healing. It's been six weeks.