Big Brother

M is going to be a big brother…just not around January 10th like we thought.  This has been a very long few days.  We found out on Wednesday that there was no longer a baby growing in S’s womb, just tissue and sadness.

I chose to not write about our conception process or the fact that S was pregnant.  Blogging sometimes makes me feel wide-open and I just wanted to keep a little for me, for us.

She was 10 weeks when she had to have surgery last Friday for the second time. The first time we lost a pregnancy was devastating.  We were both so emotionally fragile and spent.  This time, we knew exactly what we were getting into.  We know the sweet smell of a tiny person who only has eyes for you.  We know the joy that we each feel when he laughs or gives us hugs or wants us to read him bedtime stories.  So this time, the loss feels more tangible than visceral, if that makes any sense.

It has been fascinating to watch M this last week.  He has been particularly clingy to S, wanting her and not me.  He wants to nurse or snuggle on her more frequently.  He wants to just be touching her.

We haven’t hidden any of this from him.  We worked with a fertility specialist so we had early ultrasound monitoring.  They released us to a midwife’s care and explained that the chances of miscarriage were around 5%.  So we told M.  We talked all about the baby.  He even had a nickname for it.  It was quite painful to explain to him that the baby chose to go live somewhere else.

He has seen both of us crying and we have been honest with him about why we are sad.  The other night, when S was crying, he snuggled up on her shoulder, arms around her neck and said, “It’s ok, Ima.”  Then he put his hand on her face and just held it there.  One of the sweetest moments I have ever witnessed.

His affection for me is not the same.  He wants very little to do with me including not wanting to hug me most days, even if I am upset.  That has been really hard.  I am hoping he will grow into a boy who loves to love on his mama.  We’ll see.

I did waiver about whether or not to write about this.  These last few weeks have been a challenge to find something authentic to write about when I couldn’t write about the most exciting thing.  Today, I am choosing to write because I remember how alone we felt when we lost the first pregnancy.  I am writing because this is just a part of life.  A shitty, heartbreaking part of life.

We have escaped to the beach for a week with some friends.  I am sitting on the 3rd floor balcony listening to the rain and watching the clouds roll over the marsh.  I feel hopeful in this moment.  I feel hopeful that S and I will be able to create the family that we crave.  Hopeful that these losses will just be blips on the radar or our lives.  Hopeful that one day, it will all make sense.



9 responses to “Big Brother

  1. Martha Christensen

    The tears came as I read this. I feel such empathy for your family.”They” say life goes on, but what is unspoken is that these tragedies last forever. I am so sorry for the 3 of you.

  2. I am so sorry for your loss. Don’t worry about M favoring S over you. It can change very quickly.

  3. I’m very sorry to hear of your loss.
    As to M preferring one mom over the other: Each of our three boys has gone through this stage. With the oldest-he preferred me over his Mama for about a year and a half. It killed me to see this but maybe because she had the security that comes from being birth mom she never really let it bother her. With our next two boys-both adopted-when the chips were down and they needed comfort they went to Mama, not me. This also lasted about a year and a half. None of the boys show a preference anymore, thank goodness.

  4. So very sorry! So sad about this. My kiddo prefers my partner right now, I hear it’s common though for them to go through phases.

  5. Elizabeth Schwartz

    Thinking of you and your family. May the rain nourish you all.

  6. Sending you all much love, comfort, prayers and soothing, healing thoughts. I know how unimaginably painful this is – if you need or want to talk, please give me a shout. Y’all hold onto one another. ~ Cindy

  7. I’m so sorry and thinking of your family.

  8. I’m so sorry. And sorry about the timing of your little boy’s Ima phase, too. Hugs to you all.

  9. So sorry for your loss. My wife and I just lost our son at 20 weeks, and it was helpful to be reminded that others have lost and still have later success. Thank you for sharing.

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