…and really, incomparable.
One week from tomorrow, I should have been going into the hospital for the scheduled delivery of my third little boy.
I’m not sure how that much time has passed…the time between seeing him curled up in my womb on the sonogram screen in front of me to now—months later as I am currently halfway through the two-week-wait of our last IVF cycle, waiting until October 10 to find out if we are again pregnant.
Three days before I should be cuddling and snuggling another miracle in my arms, I will take the one million and eighth blood test to find out if I will ever know that feeling again.
While talking about a dear IVF friend who just recently lost her baby at nearly nine weeks, I heard those words—”It’s easier to lose it earlier.”
I literally felt my stomach drop. I’ve heard people talk about how those words have been used with them, and how much they hurt. In this community, the insensitivities of those who just don’t get it are often shared.
But the person with whom I was talking was telling ME this. With all authority and knowledge and callousness that a woman who NEVER once struggled with infertility or pregnancy could do, this person was telling me that it was easier to lose a baby earlier in gestation than later.
Of course, she was talking in reference to my friend’s loss…but I was dumbfounded nonetheless.
I, of all people, know it’s NOT easier. There is no comparison. In fact, if truth be told, I have to say that losing another baby boy in April has been far more traumatic to me. I had an incredible support system when I lost Matthew. People rallied behind me and I truly had more compassion and empathy than most women can hope for in those situations.
Losing Trey? Not so much. I’ve been asked why I even named “it” and told that it just wasn’t the same as losing Matthew. In our hope for another baby coming to us through these last several IVF and FET cycles we’ve done, my ‘positive’ outlook and enthusiasm has been mistaken for my ‘getting over it’ and it ‘being easier.’ It’s as if losing Matthew was a life-changing event, and losing Trey? A bump in the road to building our family.
I actually harbor far more guilt about losing Trey than I do Matthew. I know there was nothing I would have done differently during Matthew’s brief life. I knew him. I’d planned for him and feel no guilt about the bond we had while he was with us.
With Trey, I didn’t even know, before the D&C that is, that he was a little boy. I was so sick while pregnant, I second-guessed every decision I made. I was so busy with Luke, I feel like I didn’t give enough thanks and gratitude for the new little life I was carrying.
There are so many regrets, and I’ll be loud and clear when I say—it’s not easier that I lost him before I really was able to know him as I did Matthew.
And for those of us who struggle so much just to get pregnant, only to lose the baby, or in many cases, babies?
Hearing how one loss is easier than another is a big slap in the face. Especially hearing it from someone who has no clue.
Loss is incomparable. And never, ever easy.