The Baby

Sometimes the hardest part is the not knowing — the not knowing whether to refer to the baby as a he or a she. Being forced to use the despised “it”.

There are moments when I can live with the not knowing if the baby would have had brown eyes like mommy and daddy – or somehow inherited grandma’s green eyes. If the baby’s hair would be curly – or defied all odds and be stick straight.

But not knowing the basic fact of whether it was a boy or a girl – that feels unbearable.

Oftentimes, I refer to it as ‘her’.  But sometimes, I think of ‘him’ – a little golden-haired baby – a precocious toddler.  It’s the boy I can imagine more – I picture a mirror image of his daddy – the pictures I have of my husband as a baby or toddler fueling my imagination.

The baby would be two this year.  Two.  Not a baby anymore.  A child – toddler – running around asking why a million times a day…

My life would have been drastically different.

The other hard part – while I wish with everything I have that I could have that baby – I also am glad we had more time as a couple.  We would have loved the baby,but two years ago we weren’t ready – it would have been more difficult – a strain.

And, how horrible is that,to be glad of that?  It’s as if I’m saying I’m glad that baby was never born.  The baby I try so hard to picture, but whose face eludes me.  The baby I never knew – and yet miss all the time.

The baby that now will always be a baby to me.  Never a toddler, child or teenager. Just a faceless, nameless baby.

But still my baby.

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  1. I lost twins at 19wks, and I didn’t know what their genders were. I had turned 20 only 10 days before I lost them, and I just couldn’t deal with it. I lived about 900 miles away from most of my family at the time, and I decided to move back. I couldn’t look at my boyfriend anymore without seeing the babies we’d lost. I spent weeks bawling my eyes out. I tried to forget they’d ever existed, like that would somehow make it easier. I hadn’t told my family I was pregnant, so I didn’t tell them I’d had a miscarriage. I was doing okay with just trying to forget them, and then one night I had a dream. It was a little girl, and a little boy, and I was playing outside with them. They told me that they were okay, that they always had been. They said they would see me again someday. That we’d be together at last. I’ve had a few more dreams with those same two kids. Every time I see them they’re about 5yrs old. Those are my babies. Cassie and Noah. I named them after that first dream. Not too long ago, I woke up tired one morning, and I closed my eyes again, and the moment I did Cassie was there, she said “Hi Mommy!” with the biggest smile ever.
    Not knowing is the worst. You just don’t know. It’s your own child, and you don’t even know if that baby you’d dreamed of was a boy or a girl. You don’t know anything about them. It’s been 3yrs for me, but I know what my babies are now, and I pray that one day you will too <3

    1. That is such a beautiful picture…I have lost 5 now..three boys and two girl.. and I have similar dreams…of them growing as the years go on and the knowing that I will see them all some day…I have two living boys and I will tell them all about their siblings when they are old enough to understand. Thank you so much for sharing your story.

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Unspoken Grief is a non-profit website dedicated to creating awareness and resources for anyone touched directly or indirectly by miscarriage, stillbirth or neonatal death.

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