Tuesday, December 23, 2014

Little Sprouts

It's been a day and a half since I took my last dose of meds, and all I hear is crickets from my uterus. It's a well known fact that she really likes to hold on to pregnancies regardless of what the fetus decides. But I hope she gets the damn memo soon. 

Game Over uterus. Reset. 

In the mean time I've been plenty busy with Christmas just days away. I called my mom last night in tears because I was overwhelmed. Not just with the baby stuff but with everything. We just got back in town, but when we left things were so hectic with strep throat, class parties, dance recitals, shopping, gift wrapping, packing and breathing treatments that my house was in shambles. 

I'm no Susie Homemaker, and mess typically doesn't bother me. But I wanted it cleanish for Santa and it looked like we'd been robbed. 

On top of that I only had two days until Christmas to whip things into shape, and all the while I was anxiously awaiting a pregnancy loss with no idea what to expect. 

Mom talked me down like she always does. She first assured me that the miscarriage was nothing I couldn't handle. No need to fear it. She's been there twice, and it's like a heavy period. Hers were with her own babies so of course the emotional healing was tougher. But this was nothing I couldn't handle. 

The next morning she showed up with a beautiful basket stuffed with everything I needed. New slippers, cozy pjs, sweet pea body wash, a magazine, chicken soup and some giant industrial pads. The miscarriage care package and it was just what the doctor ordered. 

She then enlisted the girls' help with the living room and we got busy cleaning and unpacking. 

I popped some cinnamon rolls in the oven and we were rolling. In no time my living area and kitchen were back in order and I could breathe again. 

She headed home to get ready for my brother's arrival, so I decided it was time to clue the girls in on the baby situation. 

Sunshine was being a goofball on her new bean bag, so I simply said "hey Sweets I have some sad news."

She sat up and asked if Uncle T wasn't going to come after all. I assured her he was on his way but this was about the baby. 

Sweet Pea patted my tummy "you mean dis baby?"

I asked if they remembered planting their tomatoes and they did. We talked about how some seeds sprouted and some didn't. Then some that sprouted kept growing and some didn't. 

I explained that while the baby sprouted from the egg, it just stopped growing. She sat for a minute without a word, so I asked if she had any questions. 

She asked if the baby would just stay in there. I said no that it'll come out. But its parents wouldn't be able to take it home because it was too tiny when it stopped growing. 

She asked if that meant we would just keep it and I said no. That it's going to be so small we can't even see it. 

She looked sad and said "dang Mom. I really wanted them to get that baby. Miss (baby mama) must be so sad." 

I told her we were all sad and she asked why it stopped growing. I didn't know what to say so I just told her "I don't know Babe. Sometimes that happens and we really don't know why. It's like a puzzle and every piece has to fit just right for it to make a baby."

I'd never told her about my twin pregnancy that happened before she was born. But as I sat there with my sweet girl asking very grown up questions I realized I needed to. Those were her siblings, and their lives mattered. No need to get too deep, but just acknowledge them and what they meant to our family. There's nothing to feel shameful about. They were people. After all I talk about my dad all the time with her, and he passed away 15 years before she was born. 

So I gently told her that once before she was born I had two babies in my tummy. They belonged to Daddy and me, and we were so excited. But one day they stopped growing, just like this baby. So I didn't get to take them home. But the next time I got a baby in my tummy it was strong. It grew and grew and I got to take that one home. I asked if she knew what I named that baby and she proudly said it was her. 

Sweet Pea rested her head in my lap and Sunshine patted my belly. "I guess this baby just wasn't ready Mom. But the twins will be his friend."

"And you can try again right? To grow a baby that they can take home?"

That's my girl. Yep. We will get back up on that horse when the time is right. 

It's so hard to understand why we suffer  heartaches like this. It's gutwrenching and downright unfair. I searched for answers for a long time after my own loss. And 6 years later I found my why. I only hope that 6 years from now Baby Mama will have her own Sweet Pea resting sweetly in her lap. 

Those sturdy sprouts help to heal these wounds that the little seeds left behind. My little sprouts sure did heal my own heart today. For that I'm so thankful.