Today marks one year since we miscarried LO; and, in typical middle-child fashion, is a day both Nick and I almost missed despite the reminder in our shared Google calendar. We almost missed it at least in part because we live with a newborn and miss a lot of things right now. While we firmly believe a loss is a loss, and we were deeply impacted by losing LO, he is also overshadowed by the trauma of his big sister’s stillbirth. That said, this is very much a day we both want to mark, remembering another baby who didn’t get to come home with us.
Stillbirth isn’t only an emotional and spiritual experience, it is also physical.
I’ve never been a huge fan of my body. I mean, I know I’m physically strong. I run, a lot… many half marathons, even a full marathon in 2014. I lift weights and can move furniture on my own. I’m strong. But, I often wish to be less strong in order to be more skinny. Getting pregnant meant it was one of the first times in my life I was not actively trying to lose weight. Freedom!
Hope but not expect is a favorite saying of Nick’s. It drove me nuts when we were first dating. My hopes were almost always met in our early months together, but on the occasion they weren’t Nick would say, Hope but not expect. I’m still not sure I can explain what he means, though I have internalized the general idea of differentiating my hopes and my expectations.