The Saturday before we began the drive home (the 26th), I co-hosted a bridal shower for my very best friend, who is getting married in August. I've never thrown a bridal shower before, but I think it went over pretty darn well! At least, Meghan (my best friend) seemed to enjoy herself, and that's what matters, right?
As I was leaving after the shower, I was stopped by an old friend's mom. She and I were always really close, but unfortunately, this friend and I had a bit of a falling out, and my relationship with his mom has been awkward ever since. She wanted to talk to me about that. I won't go into the details of the falling out with this friend or my conversation with his mom, but it was a wonderful conversation. We really hammered some things out, and we even got to catch up with what we've both been up to.
In keeping true to my intention of being more open about my miscarriage, when the time was right in the conversation, I told her about it. She was very upset on my behalf - she actually started bawling. Which made me feel kind of good. I didn't get much sympathy or empathy from the people who knew about my miscarriage (please don't get me wrong - there were a few who were incredibly supportive), so it was nice to have someone finally be willing to just be upset about it and not try to make it better or to make me feel better.
Anyway, after telling her about my miscarriage, she told me a story of a friend of hers who had delivered a stillborn. She said that this friend had named the baby but had never told anyone what she named it. Then she asked me if I had named my baby.
And I didn't know what to say.
I don't feel like I have the right to name my baby...and I don't feel like I have enough information to do so.
I never found out my baby's gender. I always thought it was a girl (during my pregnancy and after my miscarriage, I had some really vivid dreams in which I had a baby girl...I never had a little boy in any of those dreams), but there's no way to know for sure (though, oddly enough, when I was talking to my friend's mom about my miscarriage, she told me that she had a strange feeling that my baby was a girl). Either way, though, I don't really feel like I can name my baby (I'll just call it a "her" for the sake of argument (and simplicity)).
I mean, what if I name her a clearly feminine name and then I get to heaven and, voila, she is really a he? He'd be all like, "Gee, mom, it's nice to meet you. And by the way, thanks for calling me a girl for the past 64 years."
I know it sounds ridiculous, but I really feel that way.
At the same time, it would be nice to be able to refer to her by a name, rather than just call her "my baby" or "the baby" all the time...
So, I guess I'm looking for feedback from my readers and/or perusers.
Is it weird to name my baby when I don't even know the gender for sure?
And how do I name her 1 1/2 years after the fact?
Any feedback or advice would be much appreciated.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
...to be a momma. Sometimes it's all I think about. Sometimes I think about how I should be a momma right now. I should have a precious baby in my arms. My baby should be almost a year old by now.
I'm sad that I don't even know exactly how old my baby should be. I miscarried a few days before I was supposed to go in for my first prenatal appointment, so I will never know for sure exactly how far along I was or what my due date would have been. So I can only guess and, based on my best guess, my baby would be eleven months old right now.
Right now, I should be starting to plan my baby's first birthday party.
Instead, I don't have my baby in my arms. I don't get to plan a birthday party.
I'm just left with this desire to be a momma.
Before Brady and I got married, I didn't want to have babies for a long time. I mean, I wanted kids. The Lord knows I wanted kids.
In fact, when Brady and I first met, I told him that I wanted seven kids. And he married me anyway :)
I still want seven kids. I want a bunch of children that make up a large, loud, fun, crazy, wonderful family.
I just figured that we'd wait several years before starting our family.
But after my miscarriage, this incredible (and incredibly strong) desire was awakened within me. Now, every time I am late even a few days for my period, I hope desperately that it is because I am pregnant. I start dreaming about how amazing it would be to find out that I am carrying a little one inside of me.
I used to want to wait a few years to start our family. But I don't want to wait any longer. It's been a couple years, and I want to start now.
So now I guess I get to work on patience...