Remembering Love

CW: missed miscarriage, D&C


Back around April 1, in saying “Don’t do pregnancy announcements as an April Fool’s
Joke”, I talked a little about what I went through in late March/early April with the missed miscarriage and subsequent D&C of the twins I was carrying as a GS. This week has had me thinking about it more, as posts from that week have come up on my FB “On This Day” app.

Last year, seeing that threw me for a major loop. It hurt and it brought back up some of the painful memories of what happened w/ the m/c and when things later went very poorly with the IPs of the twins and w/ how they and the fertility clinic handled matters. Last year, seeing the posts hurt. A lot. And there was pain. But I’d like to talk about what happened this year when those posts came up.

This year, my feelings were different. I still feel some resentment towards the RE, and probably always will. But it wasn’t nearly as strong. And I didn’t feel angry towards the IPs. This year, I feel compassion for them and for everything they’ve been through. This year, instead of fighting a renewed urge to send the IM a… let’s say hurt-filled email… I had to fight the urge to send her an email saying “I wish you well, I hope you have been or are able to have the babies you want.” and just want to know if her journey has ended well and have some closure (no I didn’t send an email at all).

Beyond that, this year, I feel so much love and appreciation for the outpouring of kindness, caring, and support that I was shown. My wonderful husband took fantastic care of me, as he always does. I had friends bringing me food and treats. Members of the Bishopric stopped by to check on us and make sure we knew to let them know if we needed anything. I had multiple friends offering to get up at the crack of dawn (ok, before the crack of dawn) to drive me up to the hospital and back and just generally be there for me for the D&C. I had an OB who was the kindest, most compassionate, most loving care provider I could have hoped for. She hugged me and let me cry, she and her staff didn’t even hint at needing me to leave even though the office was closing, until we had a plan, they worked me in that week for the unexpected appointments I needed. In pre-op, everyone made sure I had whatever meds I needed to cope with being upset. When I came out of the general anesthesia, Dr. Klikoff and the staff were immediately right there being kind and seeing what I needed (above and beyond the basics). I had friends give me blessings. I had friends who let me know that they were there for me if I needed to talk or cry. I had friends who came to see me. I had friends give me really great hugs. I had SO many people message me to let me know they had been through m/c’s and D&Cs and if I had any questions, feel free to ask them, including people I didn’t really know that well but who saw my posts on fMh. I had people offering to watch the kids, help with laundry, help with errands, do whatever I needed. I had an amazing agency that stood by me, the owner made sure I had HER cell phone number to call if I needed to talk or had any questions. And she and they stood by me through EVERYTHING, and are still friends. And I had friends who just loved me and went to appointments with me and let me stay their house in LA when I had to go back for more appointments at the fertility clinic after the fact.

Later on, that summer, when the IPs terminated the contract (it was not a positive experience and was very poorly mishandled), I had friends who let me come over and literally cry in their kitchen. A couple months after that when I almost had a nervous meltdown (ok, maybe ALMOST isn’t quite the right word), I had online PPD friends who were there for me to talk me through the hyperventilation and panic attack, who helped me figure out a plan to move forwards in finally actually dealing with my grief, and who offered to stay up talking with me online or on the phone, and who said to ping them any time of day or night even wake them up if I needed to talk again. I had a friend who let me come over and sob on her couch and spill out a lot of feelings I had been bottling up inside. I had WONDERFUL friends through everything in my photo class who gave me the space (or not space) or hugs or whatever that I needed, who offered treats if they’d help, who explained to my professor why I wasn’t there, and who didn’t push or pry unnecessarily but also made sure I knew I wasn’t alone. I had amazing professors who understood when I needed a few days off class, and a wonderful nurse in the campus health clinic who let me come in and rest or cry whenever I needed to. And through it all, my parents, especially Mom (because sometimes I still just need my Mama), and my husband, have been my rocks.

Tonight, as I write this, I’m sitting on my couch crying. But this? This is a GOOD cry. Because this is tears brought on by considering the great amount of grace and love and compassion and service I was shown by so many people, and still continue to receive. I can never tag or list everyone who reached out or who helped me in some way, because my memory is faulty, but your love has had a lasting impact on me, and has changed me and changed my life for the better.

Today, when I look back at a time that was very dark and full of grief and trauma and pain, I remember the pain and the crappy stuff because I don’t think that’s something that ever truly gets forgotten or that it ever completely leaves you. But that crappy stuff is not what I feel. Today, when I look back at that time, what I feel and what I remember most is love and friendship. True love, on multiple ways, shown on multiple levels. And what I want all of you to take from this post (besides the fact that I know some absolutely amazing people) is that your small acts of kindness, even just sending a message to someone who’s hurting and saying “I’m sorry. I care about you. I’m here for you.” and validating their pain, can make a world of difference. It may take some time, but it leaves a mark. Even a tiny flame shines bright in the darkest of nights.



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