I have read and heard many words of comfort in the form of articles, poems, and things people have said. I’ve noticed a common theme that runs through the words of encouragement offered to people who have had a miscarriage or lost a child. The idea is that your baby is in heaven and was called to God early because you loved it so much, or it was sent to teach you what a mother’s love truly is, so that you would know God’s love, or appreciate your other future children, that the loss would make you realize how true and deep a mother’s love can be and make you a better mother.
I understand these things are meant to help, and I get that people don’t know what to say. I think that a lot of women dealing with a loss are looking for answers, reason and meaning, and cling to the idea that their losses made them truly appreciate and realize how much they wanted to be a mom. I hope that these ideas bring some people comfort, but to me, they are insulting.
I rebel against the idea that I had to lose a child to know how much I loved it. Or, that because of the pure love I felt for my child, God decided it was okay to take it away before I knew it. Because I knew how much I loved my baby before this happened. I didn’t need to learn a lesson in love. I wanted my baby before it was even conceived. I have been dreaming of having children of my own for as long as I can remember. There is nothing I have ever wanted more out of life, no goal, dream or aspiration I held higher than being a mother. If you took everything else away from me, told me I’d never be successful in my career, that my marriage would fall apart, that I’d lose my health, my friends, that I’d lose everything, I wouldn’t care as long as I could be a mother. I’d give up everything else for that one dream. I felt that way before the loss. I have always felt that way. I didn’t need to be taught how much I wanted a child.
I loved my child from the moment I knew it was there, growing inside of me. I wanted it with all my heart and would have given anything to keep it with me. I don’t want my baby to be some angel up in Heaven waiting for me, someone I can meet only when I die. I want that child here with me now. I wanted to meet it and to love it and to teach it. I wanted to hold it and to know it.
I don’t believe that God took my baby for any reason that I can understand. I don’t believe God does these things to us, and all the poems about my little angel being too beautiful for earth just leave me bitter and angry. Give me an imperfect, ugly little monster who isn’t ready to become an angel until it spends a lifetime here, with me. I will love it enough to make it worthy again. I already know how much I will love my children, how much I love this child that I lost. I didn’t need this to know how deep my love for my child was.