A few days ago, I posted a status about my biological clock ticking. Geez louise, I never thought I'd receive so much flack for a silly thought. Originally, when I posted it, my intentions were as they usually always are when I post a facebook status: get a laugh. Comments I received both online and in person from various people though encouraged my own mind to take it a bit further and (admittedly) get a little more irritated than I should have.
LAURA LEIGH: "If you hear some racket, I apologize. My biological clock is ticking louder than a jet plane"
RESPONSES: "You're just a baby yourself." "Oh my gosh. You're so dramatic." ...And my personal favorite that is becoming almost an everyday response: "You guys should seriously be grateful you have time alone."
I'm trying not write about this topic anymore. I really am. I promise. I know everyone is sick of it. But today... I have thoughts I just have to release somewhere.
Was I primarily attempting to be funny? Yes. I enjoy making others laugh. Was there truth behind it? ABSOLUTELY.
I know it's not anyone's job to carry my burden and remember my heartaches. But the thought never leaves ME each day as to how far along I would have been by now.
This week I would have been just right at halfway through my pregnancy. I'd be looking for my feet, indulging myself with more sweets and donuts than most normal people because I could, picking out furniture and baby clothes - (pink or blue? I like to think blue) - and probably driving Brian up the wall with my horribly crazy emotions (then again, I probably AM doing that now).
In December, we'll be going to Disneyworld with Brian's family for Christmas. And while I am so excited I can barely hold my bladder thinking about it sometimes, I know that at some point during the trip, I'll probably have to find a corner to lose it in. I won't be able to shake the inevitable thought (hopefully quick and fleeting) that I would have been holding a baby in my arms, had things worked out. I wouldn't have even been able to BE at Disneyworld. Don't get me wrong (especially family that may stumble upon this), I'll be totally stoked to be hanging with Mickey. My point is that, even in the midst of extreme happy moments, your mind just can't forget.
My heart still beats for a child I'll never get to hold - not on this side of heaven anyway. And while I may be young, that doesn't take away the fact that I still hurt for what isn't. I have made huge strides in this grieving process and I am nowhere near the basket case I was 4 months ago. But I still hurt.
I wish sometimes that I could just forget - not only forget it happened, but forget it existed. The rest of the people in my world have moved on, not insensitively so. It's just like all things with life - we sympathize with people, but we have our own worries and struggles. I'm sure I've forgotten about the struggles of my friends and family frequently, but not willingly. I get it.
I just wish people would quit with the comments. "You're young....You guys are so lucky to have time alone together... YOU'RE TOO DRAMATIC."
At the mere age of 24, I never expected to get pregnant. But I did. And now, at the mere age of 24, I grieve the loss of my child. THAT is what baffles me. To be so young and hurt like this - an issue I never even expected to BE an issue.
I can't simply forget. If you've read any of my latest posts, you'll see that I have issues with that. Obviously. I know some people are way past this "Laura Leigh and miscarriage" thing. Please hear me, I do. I want to write about stupid simple things, but this place has become the place where I can just vomit my feelings and leave feeling better.
So understand, I'm not trying to be dramatic. I AM grateful for the time that Brian and I have together, just the two of us. I'm young (and plan to be for a while!).
But behind the silly antics, when the excitement dies down and I'm alone to my thoughts, I'm reminded of what's happened. I remember joyfully. I remember painfully.
And at the end of it all, I'm just glad that I remember.
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People's opinions about the age appropriate time to have children are so subjective. I was 24 when I got pregnant with Everett, and turned 25 two weeks after he died. I struggled so much with feeling like I was "behind". I think your feelings are perfectly legitimate. And anyone who is way past this "Laura Leigh and miscarriage" thing is shallow and a jerk. Four months is not that long, and you deserve to take all the time you need to grieve and process your feelings. I'm so sorry for you hurt. One of my favorite songs is called "Prayers for This Child" by Sara Groves. She sings, "I do not know how I am to pray for this child. As a mother, I don't want my baby denied. But in the waiting, in the waiting I learned to hold on to the heart of God." Praying that this waiting period, painful as it is, will draw you closer to our Father's heart.
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