“What I want for my birthday is to be a big sister,” Natalie told me seriously the other day. “Mommy. When will your baby come back?”
My breath caught in my throat.
“Mommy,” Natalie prattled on, oblivious to the fact that I stood frozen beside her. “Will it be a boy baby or a girl baby?”
I couldn't speak. My mouth opened and closed like a goldfish but no words came out.
“Being a big sister would be fun. My friends Emma and Brianna are big sisters,” Natalie said, picking up one of her baby dolls and cradling it close.
“The baby isn’t coming back,” I managed to get out.
I had a miscarriage last summer. The pregnancy had been a total surprise. And then, just as I got used to the idea of having another one, I lost it.
Well. I’m told I had a blighted ovum, so it really wasn’t even an actual baby, but a bundle of cells. It never had a heartbeat. My son wasn’t upset that I lost the baby; on the contrary, he was happy. He has Autism and was not looking forward to a screaming infant.
My daughter was the one that was upset. She seemed to accept that there wouldn’t be a baby, but now and again she asks if I’m going to go back to the hospital to pick it up.
“It wasn’t right of them to take our baby,” Natalie once said. She didn’t seem to fully grasp everything.
And now she wants to be a big sister for her birthday.
Honestly, ever since I had the miscarriage, I can’t seem to get rid of the feeling that someone is missing. I had been stunned when I found out I was pregnant and was in a panicked state.
“I can’t do it all over again!” I had wailed to my husband Tom.
Sometimes when we’re sitting around the table I think, “Someone is missing…”
The baby would have been due in December. As the kids opened their presents I couldn’t help but think, “If I hadn’t had a miscarriage, there would be an infant here with us..”
I go back and forth with the thought of another baby. I do worry that I would be overwhelmed with a newborn. Could I do diapers again? Losing sleep? I love my sleep. Would everyone fit in my hybrid? I don’t want a van. Would 3 kids be trouble? That’s an uneven number. How would we all go on rides?
On the other hand, what if I regret not having another one? Suppose I constantly feel like someone is missing. Will that feeling eventually go away?
I’m still not sure what will happen and if Natalie will ever get her wish of being a big sister.
Time will tell, I suppose.
I'm linking up with Shell over at Things I Can't Say with Pour Your Heart Out.