Very soon after losing the girls, DH mentioned that he would not be getting attached to any other pregnancy before the baby was born. Although upset by his statement, I could understand it. In fact, I realized part of my anger was at the fact that I knew I wouldn’t be able to do the same – it just doesn’t work for a woman. And his ideas of the subject were only reinforced through our pregnancy with Bug.
Knowing that, when I first found out I was pregnant with Monkey, I set myself up for a bit of a lonely journey, at least through the first trimester. Although I wish he would join me in talking about the baby, sharing hopes and fears, I know he isn’t at the place where he can right now … he is trying desperately to protect his heart.
That said, we are starting to feel the strain of this pregnancy. Him – dealing with a sick hormonal wife that he doesn’t connect to any sort of positive result. Me – sick and hormonal, wanting ridiculous amounts of support he can’t possibly give.
I don’t even know where I am going with all this. I like to be able to wrap a post up with a nice thought … something that makes me feel satisfied as I walk away. But unless someone has a fast forward button for us, I just don’t think it will. Part of me hopes that our appointments this week might begin to change him a bit – maybe knowing if there is a heartbeat will be a first step. But most of me knows it may not be the case, and that I can’t push him farther or faster than he is willing and able to move.
It’s strange, so often we think that men don’t deal with the loss as deeply as women do. But I think they really do, they just don’t know how to share it. Like me, DH has rawness that only holding a child will fix. While I am able to (or silly enough to) open myself up to hurt before that point, he simply can’t – for him the pain is still too deep.