Getting Through My Due Date After a 2nd Trimester MiscarriageAela Mass
Tomorrow is my due date.
May 31, 2013.
When I was told that I was pregnant with twins, I didn’t get too attached to that date because all my doctors said I wouldn’t make it that far, that twins are generally born around the 35th week. I remember saying numerous times, “If I make it to May, I’ll be happy.”
I made it to December 22.
My water broke that night at 17 weeks pregnant. And the next two days and then the next 5 months were the worst of my life. I never found out why I lost the twins. Truth be told, I didn’t go above and beyond to find out why I had a 2nd trimester miscarriage. Because of the policies at my fertility center, I had been tested and screened for all sorts of genetic issues, random diseases, and the like and so had been our sperm donor before I ever even got pregnant. My babies were tested during the autopsy after they passed, and they were both issued a clean bill of health except for the fact that they were dead; and I had been issued a clean bill of health as well even though my water broke 20ish weeks too early. So when the doctors told me, “sometimes, these things just happen,” my searching ended there.
As the days went on with my empty gut and broken heart, May 31 suddenly began to gain more importance to me. I realized when May arrived that this would have been their month. My babies would have been born. And I would have celebrated my first Mother’s Day. During a random conversation with my mom the other day, I said, “The twins would have been here by now.”
May was their month. And May 31 was their due date. Somehow it feels as though tomorrow is my last day with them, even though they’ve been gone now for months.
I’m not sure what to do on this day. I suppose I’ll go to work. Walk my dog. Do laundry. Text my spouse back and forth. Have some wine. I suppose it’s going to be a regular day. Except it isn’t.
I’ve been vocal about my story from the get-go. There’s little if anything that I haven’t shared. Yet somehow, tomorrow feels like it’s going to be a day I suffer in silence.
Because sometimes, there are no words.
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