Healing

To heal, you have to grieve.
And to grieve, you have to know that there is no shame in it.

I allowed myself to grieve, and I was allowed to grieve.
No one told me I couldn't.
No one said that grieving was a sign of weakness.
For that, I am grateful.

My husband and I, we've spent moments just holding each other and crying.
Crying that we miss the baby we did not know.
For the things, we've planned but will never get to do with him/her.
And when the moment passed, we felt better.
We were stronger.
And we understood each other better.

We've said our goodbye to our Baby Peanut.
It wasn't easy living for a week with him/her still inside of me but knowing that he/she was already gone.
The pregnancy symptoms were still there at the time and it was a constant, painful reminder of what we no longer had.
But we got through it - together.

I went for surgery to have an Evacuation of Retained Products of Conception (ERPOC) or known as a "missed abortion".
It was surreal.
Like it was a dream.
Then when we got home from the hospital, my bump was gone.
And reality hit hard.
Peanut is gone.

We are healing, Alhamdulillah.
Days get better.
And if my husband was anyone else, I don't think I could have gone through it in one piece.
He is my strength.
He isn't afraid to feel and show me what he feels.
That makes him the bravest, strongest man I know.

And our Son, he is the reason for our everydays.

Some things...

A song that makes it all (slightly) better

The Rescuers - Tomorrow is another day

Grieving

Routine check-up for Baby Peanut on July 5th.
I feel fine.

Doc scans tummy.
I can see the baby, snug in the womb.
Doc measures the Crown to Romp length; estimated age is 8weeks +
First red flag.
Baby is supposed to be 10 weeks.

Doc uses a heat doppler.
Everything around the baby was red.
Another red flag.
There's no red dot near the chest.

My heart was racing.
I knew something was wrong.

Doc used the sound finder to detect the sound of baby's heartbeat.
Silence.

Then everything came crashing.

Our baby is gone.
Peanut is still inside me.
I don't feel any less pregnant.
But Peanut is gone.

There are no words.