The guilt of a miscarrying infertileMay 3, 2009
This morning I woke to Jack listening to the ipod, a far off expression.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
He shook his head, “Nothing a song got me a little emotional.”
“Which song? Why?”
“It’s nothing,” he said looking away.
Later that evening, we sat together and the song came on.
“This is the song,” he said quietly.
“Why did it make you emotional?” I asked.
“It reminded me of the baby. Of what was supposed to be.”
I listened to the lyrics: stay and watch the coals Till they cease to glow Like empty promises Why, Why did you go, why did you go away? Baby? There’s nothing I can say Nothing I can do To bring you back again.
I held his hand and squeezed tightly. It hit me, the obvious realization, that though he might not cry like I do, and talk about it, he is hurting too. I realized how hard he tries to be strong for me as it took him all day to finally tell me what got him so sad.
It fucking breaks my heart that he is hurting. I hate that he feels he can’t lean on me like I can lean on him. I sometimes feel so guilty I have PCOS. He could be a dad now, but he’s not. I’m the reason we don’t have a child. I don’t ovulate regularly. I miscarried. Sometimes I feel like he deserves better. Would he have signed up for this deal if he knew what he was getting? He insists this is not true- but I can’t help it.
Three weeks to the date of my miscarriage- the scars still fresh, the pain lingers, the tears remain.