Footprints on a heart

I'm having a hard time today. I won't lie. Lately I have been feeling really resentful of women who take their fertility for granted. Please don't misunderstand me, I do absolutely treasure my daughters and my ability to have them. And I know that my hysterectomy was absolutely necessary and not my preferred method of birthcontrol, but it still breaks my heart to see these women who don't seem to truly treasure the miracle they were blessed with. Please don't think that I'm saying these women don't love their children, because I'm sure they do. It just breaks my heart when they inadvertently flaunt their "blessings" in front of women who are having their hearts breaking while waiting for their own miracles.

I wanted more children. I wanted to give my husband the large family he wanted.  I had my heart broken several times with the heartwrenching news of "unsuccessful pregnancy", "spontaneous abortions", "ectopic pregnancies". I've had to go through the D&C's, chemical "abortions" and the uncertainty of whether or not my child(ren) were going to make it through to the outside world. I've had to deliver a very premature child before and suffer the "indignity" of mulitple ultrasounds to check the progress of my "spontaneous abortions". And why do they call it a "spontaneous abortion"?  When I hear the term "spontaneous" I usually think of a positive thing. When I hear the word "abortion" it sounds like something that was a choice. I NEVER had a choice in whether or not I lost my children. My husband never had a choice in whether or not he watched his wife endure cramping, bleeding, crying, and mourning.  We never had that choice.

I wanted to be able to give my husband a son to share in those experiences that only a father and son could share in. I wanted that for him. Part of me feels like I failed him. A "normal" healthy woman should still be able to be conceiving and delivering healthy beautiful children at my age. There weren't any "Normal or healthy" parts in my body. We were truly blessed and given miracles when we had our daughters. I treasure them more than words can say. Yes, I might not enjoy every last moment of their tantrums, screaming, fighting and stubborn personalities - but I treasure them.  I look back at the morning sickness, backaches, heartburn, sleepless nights and moments that you can't understand until you have held that baby in your arms and they wrap their little fingers around yours. I will never forget the enterances they made into this world. Seeing their little pink fingers, tufts of brownish red hair. The first times they opened their eyes, the first times they nursed at my breast, the first time I had to configure them into the carseat never knowing whether or not I had done it "just right".  I won't forget those terrifying first 6 months of checking on them every hour to make sure they were still breathing and were really "ok".  I won't forget the first time they slept through the night and  I woke up terrified that they weren't ok. I won't forget any of those moments that made my heart leap w/ terror and with joy.

I'll never forget any of that. I won't forget the heartbreaks either. I won't forget the times at the OB's office waiting, praying, crying, shaking when they looked for heartbeats and would find none. I won't forget having to try to explain to my husband what the doctors said.  I won't forget having to try to explain to our family why we were loosing yet another child.  I won't forget the heartbreaking words that people meant with good intentions. I won't forget the "waiting" for things to "progress naturally" and having to go back to the doctors office every other day for blood work and to hear that the "numbers are dropping, it should be any time now." I won't forget having to go back for more ultrasounds and having to lay there knowing that they weren't going to see "my baby". They were looking for the "spontaneous abortion". The doctors would try and explain over and over again that it was too early for it to be "my baby" or too early for it to be (by their definitions) considered a "miscarried fetus".  I know they were trying to make things easier, but regardless, "it" was my baby.  I knew that baby. I knew that little person inside me had a spirit and life, regardless of how things progressed. I fell in love with that child the moment I knew he or she was there. He or she was my baby, not a "miscarried fetus" or "spontaneous abortion".

I sit here know having read "invitations to baby showers", birth announcements, friends pregnancy announcements, friends carrying their newborn babies and I am happy for them. But I am also so angry at the same time.  I do share in their joy and treasure their excitement, but I am also so envious. I'm envious that most of the time, it wasn't planned or it happened the "first month or two" they were trying. I'm envious that they get to have those "firsts" again and I can't.  I have a few friends that would bend over backwards, cut off their own limbs, give ANYTHING to have that pregnancy and have it come out with a beautiful child. Why does it have to be so hard for some women, and so easy for others.  Why are teenage girls able to get pregnant at a time in their lives when they should be picking out prom dresses or getting their learners permits?  Why do they have these children and consider them to be "cramping their style" or "little fashion accessories and novelties"?  I respect that some younger women are mature enough to raise a child at a young age and I am proud to know a couple of AMAZING younger moms. They truly are mature, wise and impeccable parents.  However, they are the diamonds in the rough. They are the women that could tell cautionary tales to those little girls in high school who think having a baby would be "fun".  I know they consider their children to be the best parts of their lives and I admire them so much.

But, why did it come so easily to them? Why can't it come that easily to women like myself who would give anything to have our children have come so easily into our wombs?  Why do some unbelievably remarkable women have to endure miscarriage after miscarriage with no definite reason?  Why do they get jerked around the medical maze without the support and dignity that they should have?  Why do they have to have all of those humiliating and painful procedures done over and over? Why can't they have the blessing of a beautiful, healthy child without all the heartache?  I do understand that in the "long run" they'll treasure the children they do end up having more, but no one should ever have to endure that heartbreak.  No one deserves to be told that their "bodies don't support pregnancy" or "they mis-carried" like they did something wrong. Why do they have to be violated and broken over and over again?

I have a very close friend of mine who is enduring some of the same challenges that I went through now. I look at her and her amazing husband and just want to cry for them.  It can be such an isolating experience to endure the loss of a child that no one else saw or believed was even a child. To endure the loss of something that is wanted and loved so much is a pain that cannot be described. They do say that "children are supposed to bury their parents, not parents burying their children".  But, sometimes, the children are too tiny to bury. Sometimes, parents don't even have a picture or physical item to hold on to. They don't have that physical connection to mourn with. They only have the pain of "what could have been". 

After all of this, they still have to endure the testings, the questions, the "what happeneds?" Especially for the mother, at every intake appointment they have to relive their losses. The same questions over and over again. "How many times have you been pregnant? When were your miscarriages? Were they able to determine the cause of the miscarriage? How many D&C's have you had?"  Then to have to explain the dates and "course of treatments". To have to answer the same questions over and over again. To have to walk into stores and see women who are as pregnant as you "would have been".  To have family and well meaning friends ask "are you planning on having children? why are you waiting? are you trying?"  To have to put on the "happy face" for people who are pregnant and are so excited to share their news with anyone who will listen.  To pass the strollers, pass the other mothers whose bodies work "normally".  To see the dates of "what would be". They all get engraved in your hearts no matter what anyone else says.

I see my friend going through this process now and I truly wish I could go through it for her. Atleast then, she wouldn't have to have another scar on her heart, with another set of footprints. She wouldn't have to remember the dates or the entire process from the positive pregnancy test, to the intake appointment w/ OB, to the ultrasounds to measure due dates, the blood test to find out how far along you are, the low levels, the too high levels of HCG. All of those tests that put the seeds of doubt in your mind. The tests that put the little foot prints on your heart.

Why do some women have to get all the scars on their hearts, and others don't even bat an eyelash at their miracles? Why?