Letter to a Tiny Heartbeat

Dear Tiny Heartbeat

This week has been a lot. It was a busy week at work with lots of ups, downs, fun, and feelings. A little over a year ago, I took a leap and shared my miscarriage story. I shared a lot in that painful post. I am still making sense of what kind of toll my body and my mind took in dealing with the many layers of that loss. Now, a little over a year with that same pain in tow I am now alone, divorced and working to start my whole life over. It has been a struggle to wrap my brain around the idea that my path to becoming a mother is not going the way I would have wanted or planned.

Certain things and moments still hurt and sting.

When I see my beautiful lucky friends have their children, make their pregnancy announcements, and invite me to the various celebrations they have for their little ones. When it happens I am simultaneously hurt and happy. Hurt because of my situation and happy for them because being able to create life and the keeper/steward of a little soul that is a piece of you is a beautiful blessing. I wonder how I can explain to them that I don’t show up to those celebrations because I am not ready to be there because the pain I am in over my own situation overpowers the happiness I feel for them. So in an effort to not rain on their joy, I skip it.

When I am told by women that there are some things I won’t understand until I have my own children. A part of me understands what they mean, yet the other part of me feels excluded from being able to access motherly wisdom simply because, unlike other mothers, I never got to hold or meet my child. Sometimes I want to ask them: Am I not a real mother too? I felt a heartbeat inside me that was not mine. It was a life I created. I loved it. I lost it. I took breaths for it. I allowed my body to be torn apart for it. I haven’t been the same since. Is that not exactly what a mother does? Do I not have enough of a foundation to understand whatever it is they think I won’t get?

Learning that my ex was expecting a child just a few months after we separated hurt. I recall a conversation we had right after my miscarriage and getting the news that we’d need to undergo fertility treatments. I told him that I feared he’d leave me for someone who could give him children in a faster and easier way. It was the first time I said that fear out loud. At that time he reassured me that he would never just leave me for someone else who could have kids faster than me. Perhaps at that moment, he meant it. Perhaps at that moment, my intuition suspected that this would happen. Saying that fear out loud may have simply confirmed what was already going to happen. In any case, here we are, him on his way to starting the family he wanted, and me alone and trying to figure out what to do to start over again.

I remain committed to healing in every way I can. Expressing myself through written words has been an outlet and saving grace for my heart. On the one year anniversary of my miscarriage back in October, I wrote a letter to my unborn child. At that point, I had been separated from my ex for a couple of months, I was still struggling to function with a broken heart, and trying to make meaning of all the hurt I had been ignoring. As I sat in tears at my desk at work that day I turned my brain off and let my fingers weave together the things my soul needed to say. Here is what they came up with:

Dearest Tiny Heartbeat,

Pequeña vida you lived in me and I was forever changed by seeing you, feeling you, walking for you, breathing for you. After all the scare and discomfort I looked up and there you were, a tiny little piece of me. Radiating and beating furiously. Playing hide and seek with the doctors so they wouldn’t take you from me. You were the essence of the most beautiful parts of me. You made my flaws pure and full of possibilities. When I saw you I had never felt a love so all-consuming. It was the most beautiful three minutes of my life.

You gave me the wisdom of a mother in every breath I took for you. I was ready for you. Ready to protect you with my momma bear fury. Ready to love you with my whole being. Ready to be a guiding light for your spirit and let you be mine. I was ready to give you the life of my ancestors dreams. I lost you but you left me enough strength and radiance to last me a lifetime. I know you came to me with messages and lessons about myself, about my self-care, about my health, about my marriage, and about all the things I was forcing.

I know now that my soul cannot be the steward of another until I am at peace and at calm with my demons and scars. That is what you came to show me. I will do the hard work of clearing the trauma in my womb so that you can guide me to birthing the creative baby that will be your sibling. The creative baby that will honor you, highlight the essence you left living inside of me, and help me become the mother you deserve. Now I am living for you. I am creating for you. I am writing to you. I am crying for you. I am searching for the kind of love I deserve for you. I am here in life working daily to bring meaning to my life in order to honor the part of you that has stayed with me.

I love you. Thank you.

Thanks for reading friends.

-D

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