Battlefield Of Scars

[Contributing Writer, Jennifer Fisher]

My four-month-old son is sleeping soundly with his ever-snoring father while the rest of the neighborhood is beginning to wake on this peaceful Saturday morning.

I am at ever odds with this blinking cursor because I am trying to write about the biggest heartbreak I have experienced thus far. This heartbreak almost caused the dissolution of my marriage, and ultimately the loss of faith in myself. For you see, I am a mommy to four and only one of those precious babies I have successfully brought into the world.

There is a unique, profound, and palpable loss when preparing for a child that never comes. This loss is something I will never forget (though many well-meaning women have told me this), because how could you ever forget that moment when you see that first positive pregnancy test after trying for so many years? I still remember the rush of adrenaline and the excitement each time; only to be followed by three emergent surgeries because all three of my previous pregnancies were Ectopic (meaning implanted in my Fallopian Tubes) and each of those pregnancies further took away my ability to conceive naturally until I was surgically sterilized.

My abdomen is a battlefield of scars and, in the attempt to start our small family, I became the embodiment of the Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein…I gave and gave until (at that time) there was nothing left for me to give.

I became lost and I found myself working insane hours just to avoid my husband, my heartbreak, and the entire world. I became resentful. The resentment, in hindsight, originated from those same well-meaning women offering words of encouragement stating overused phrases:

“If it was meant to be…”

“At least you were able to get pregnant…”

“There are always other babies... “

“You could adopt...”

“At least you were not far along in the pregnancy…”

Well-meaning… but cruel at the same time. I still remember the very thoughts that surfaced with each of these conversations, because no woman should ever attempt to minimize the loss of a baby (no matter how far in gestation) for a life is a life. Not only was I forced to endure such “support,” but I was also at my wit’s ends with other people asking about when was I going to start having babies, because “the biological clock is ticking.”

Pressure, on all sides, was ever present in my life without a single second of respite. The outcome? Well, I ran away to Austin, Texas with only the personal belongings that would fit in my Acura.

But that is all I will divulge, because if I continue on, I will lose sight of the very valuable lesson or advice that I wished to share. This lesson is applicable to all.

Motherhood is priceless and you must remember that this life event does not come easy to all. For every baby born, there is one lost. For every confirmed pregnancy, there is a woman longing & wishing it was her.

We as women must remain united in our support of each other as ultimately, it is okay to not have the right words when you or a loved one experience loss. I never wanted motivational words and advice on what to do next with each lost pregnancy. I never wanted a bible lesson or comparisons to other mothers to diminish my grief. All I truly wanted (and I think this is universal) is just a fist bump of solidarity and quiet support until I was ready to either speak or begin again. I wanted time to mourn and to find the ironic value in this experience.

For all the mommies out there that have had miscarriages, stillbirths, and infant deaths: There are no words to ever describe how truly sorry I am for what life has taken from you.

You were cheated from something miraculous and absolutely perfect…we all were, but yet there is peace in this. No matter what, you are a mother. This is irrefutable. Whether that pregnancy only lasted weeks, whether you heard that first heartbeat or felt tiny fingers wrap around yours… You are a mother and no one, no society can lessen that truth. It is not your fault and I promise you that you will eventually find solace once again and it will come when you least expect it. Here is my fist bump of solidarity to you!

My husband and little man are now awake. There is the smell of coffee in the air and the sounds of baby talk permeating the living room.

A little over a year ago, after a decade of turmoil, I found myself finally ready to risk my healing heart once again and attempt In Vitro Fertilization (that is another story for another time), and we were blessed on the first cycle with our precious Theodore Harrison Daniel Fisher.

Time Dilation is in effect at this very moment and my ill-fated pregnancies seem so long ago… For the first time in years, I am happy.