Dear In-Law Family (Mother, Father, Brother):
Why didn't you reach out to me? You came to our house the day before Thanksgiving. This was the same day I had to take methotrextate to dissolve our pregnancy that the doctors thought was ectopic.
I know, you didn't really understand it all. You asked my husband whether this was a 'real' miscarriage. Did the answer to that question really matter though? Were you not asking the right question? Another question? I know it's hard to understand. And hard to know what to ask, or what to say. I know. But still.
I was so down. I was sad. I was mad. I couldn't stop crying. I felt terrible. Terrible. I hated that it was Thanksgiving and that you all were here for a good time.
I hated it even more that you barely acknowledged what I was going through ... or how it made me feel. Why didn't you ask?
On top of it all, you are ALL ministers... so... why. didn't. you. pray. with. me?????
Were you on vacation from being a minister?? No, I know. That's not it. At least, I hope not. But that's how it felt. Kinda. I know miscarriages are taboo. I know I wasn't on the floor bleeding. Or pregnant for that long. Or even 'really' pregnant. I know it's been strange to talk about infertility. But the most comforting thing you could have offered at that point was to pray with me.
And you didn't.
And I still don't understand how you couldn't have thought to. And I still can't let it go.
The weather was nice here yesterday. I went for a run. In the sun. It reminded me of the day before Thanksgiving. The day I got my methotrextate shot. It was a nice day. I couldn't stop crying in my room. So I did what came naturally. I went running. In shorts. In the sun.
Yesterday's run made me think of that day-before-Thanksgiving run. And how I felt. And how I felt you were too uncomfortable to really be there for me.
And it still hurts even though I know you probably didn't mean it and that you were probably just uncomfortable and trying to give me space. It just made me feel more alone. That's all.
love,
me
I promise to never be too uncomfortable to not reach out, to not be there for someone - really be there for someone in their grief, in their anguish, in their sadness, in their discomfort. If I've learned nothing but this, then I hope to be the emotional hug to others when they need it.
9 years ago