I wonder sometimes if I’m wrong. I wonder if the sadness is all for nothing. But I know in my heart, I was pregnant. I wasn’t pregnant “enough” for a test to shout it out, but I felt pregnant. I was two weeks late, and I took several tests that said BFN. I knew they were wrong. And then one day… good old Florence unpacked her bags. I bled for two weeks. I passed tissue. My heart broke. We weren’t yet trying for a blessing, although I had gone off of BCP’s that January. It was March 2004 when my heart broke.
It doesn’t seem to make sense to mourn this little person that I didn’t even really know about, but I miss him in my heart. It’s bittersweet to know that if he had continued to grow, we would not have Anneliese. And yet I feel robbed of a child I never got to hold. I feel like I should have four babies, but can only hold three. I love all of them equally. I know that he’s in Heaven with his Uncle Frankie, Aunt Maryanne and Uncle Angelo. I know that he’s taking care of his 2 big sisters and his baby sister. I know he’s watching over me. I have a need to remember him, and think of him often, but soon I hope to do it without sadness.
I really only just finally admitted to myself out loud that yes, this tiny man who couldn’t even become a boy existed. It hurt too much to actually think about it and discuss it, because it makes me feel as if somehow I’m not appreciating Anneliese. I know that’s not true but sorrow never claimed to be logical, did it? I adore her & appreciate her & love her, as all my girls, beyond words. Beyond explanation.
I don’t want a baby to replace him. I don’t miss him because he was, in my heart, a boy. My heart aches because he was my missed baby, who happened to be a boy. I feel sadness that my husband will never have the son he always dreamed about. I mourn that for him too but it’s different. And I know that his new dreams include all of our daughters, I know that he, as I do, loves all of our children with his entire heart. Am I sorrowful not to have a son? Ideally, no. Specifically, yes. I am sorrowful not to have THIS son. A little boy who could have been Zachary or Anthony or Nicholas
So what do I say when someone asks me how many babies I have?
I say I’m a mother with three daughters.
In my head I also say “I’m a mother without her son.”