The day after we found out we had lost the baby, hubs and I were driving to be in some nature for awhile with our shock and grief. The quiet in the car was so effing loud. And then he said, “It’s hard to remember that this doesn’t mean it’s the end.” He meant the end of possibility, the end of making a family. And he was right about it not being the end, but he was also right about how it still felt like it was.
I’ve read in various articles and blog posts and books pertaining to miscarriage that once you go through this kind of loss, your innocence about pregnancy is over. For any subsequent pregnancies that may occur, you will always be afraid of it happening again. Because you know now how easy it can be to lose your baby. You may have joy, and be so excited and grateful for the new chance at new life, but it will be paired with apprehension and fear and caution because now you know just how painful it can be.
So it is hard to remember that things aren’t over. That you may be down but you aren’t out. That there is reason to still believe. And I’m grateful to my husband for giving voice to that.
A bend in the road is not the end of the road unless you fail to make the turn.