Babies. Everyone around me is having babies. In just the last six months, two of my very best girlfriends gave birth to beautiful, beautiful babies. And right about now, I thought I’d be holding one of my own.
As I approach the June 6th due date of my chemical pregnancy, I find myself wondering more than ever – what am I supposed to do with these empty arms? The arms that were meant to comfort and cradle. The arms that were going to be so busy. The arms that suddenly feel lost.
That’s the thing no one tells you about miscarriage. You’ll be OK for an hour, a day, a week, or even a season – until you’re not. Sometimes something as big as a due date will trigger profound feelings of loss and sadness. Sometimes something as beautiful as a perfect moment with your family will remind you of the member who’s missing. Sometimes it’s a friend announcing a pregnancy, sometimes it’s nothing, and other times it’s everything.
Having experienced a previous miscarriage, I know how this thing goes. I know that although time will “heal”, the void will remain. I’ll live with this loss like so many women do. I’ll attempt to divert my attention, focus on happier thoughts, and count my many blessings, but continue look down at my empty arms and remember.
If there’s one comfort to be had, it’s the knowing that my arms don’t have to remain empty. They may never again house a newborn baby I’ve created, but they can still hold and comfort my beautiful sons as well as they ever did. They can cradle and comfort the precious newborns of family and friends. And they can give my heart a sliver of peace for simply reaching out.