Several years ago, I had a mother request a Comfort Kit for her daughter who had just lost twin babies. Upon receiving the confirmation email that noted the package could take up to 2 weeks to be delivered, she contacted me saying to cancel the request. She didn’t realize the delivery timeframe could be that long and her daughter would be over it by then.
Every fiber of my being wanted to write back and say “Are you kidding me? Over it in less than 2 weeks?!” but naturally I didn’t. I don’t remember what my exact response was, but I honored her request and did not send the kit. But this story has clearly stayed with me, and from time to time I ponder what “getting over it” even means in relation to pregnancy loss.
Do our bodies physically get over it? Usually, but not always. In some cases it takes much longer than expected. After I had a missed miscarriage in 2015, followed by a D&C, it was discovered that I had experienced a partial molar pregnancy. As a result, it took months for my body to return to normal – long months full of constant monitoring and tests. And a worry about cancer, as molar pregnancies, although typically benign, can become cancerous.
In the end I DID get over it and soon after went on to finally have a healthy pregnancy.
But emotionally? I’m not sure that’s something most people ever truly get over. Does it eventually stop consuming all of your daily thoughts? Sure. But does it ever completely leave your memory? I don’t know how it could.
I can’t tell you how moving it is when I see a new comment on our Wall of Remembrance honoring a baby who would now be older than I am. That child is loved and remembered even all these years later. In my mind, getting over it means forgetting, and in that case, I’m ok with never getting over it. Because I never want to forget the children we didn’t get to bring home.
I hope that in 40 years I remember them the same way I do now – with love and with a bit of pain and sadness in my heart. They are part of our story, part of our lives. And in my opinion, there is no getting over it – and I sincerely hope no one expects me to.