Miscarriage: Emptiness

Another one of my writings from after my 5th miscarriage...

It's been two weeks, two months, two years. Surely you are over "it" by now?!

You were only a few days, a few weeks, a few months pregnant. Why do you continue to think about, remember, dwell on it? It was just a bit of flesh, a spotting of blood, a heavy period, a spark of life.

Why do you place so much meaning upon it? You already have one child, two, three, four children. Why would you want more? Perhaps it was God's Will, deformed, you weren't meant to be parents.
Why don't you stop trying??

It think it is the emptiness... from deep within your belly. Where a special baby nestled... safe and secure... for such a short time. The empty room you carry around in your head, decorated in cute bunnies, soft white lace and a big comfortable rocking chair.

The empty crib where a sweet tousled head was meant to rest. The empty chair at your table... meant for a wiggly toddler smearing his food. A clumsy five year old slurping her milk. A lanky twelve-year old passing the peas.

Your empty arms... aching to cuddle a precious little body. To hug a troubled child. Empty hands ready to rub a little back. Or help a toddling child hold tight crossing a busy street.

An emptiness in your heart. Watching your friends and family grow in pregnancy. And welcome their new babies into your world.

An empty feeling in your mind... as you remember the little one... who flitted in and out of your life so quickly. Yet left such an indelible mark on your soul.

Sometimes you try to fill the emptiness... with food, spending money, doing more than too much. Reading, talking, crying, walking. You want ten more kids to fill this emptiness, but you can't bear the pain of trying one more time.

You'll try new doctors, new treatments, try forgetting about everything and just getting on with your life.

But nothing ever seems to fill the emptiness that tiny body left in your life...
your heart...

and your soul.