6x6

Courtesy of Glow in the Woods:

1 In a word, how would you characterize yourself before your loss, and then after? Before: Open - to life, happiness, a future. After: Closed - to hope, optimism, and the possibility of being hurt again.

2 How do you feel around pregnant women? Bitter. Confused. Amazed. Indescribably envious. The worst for me are the ones that are almost full term, belly buttons popping, out walking, exercising even, full of life, hope, seemingly free of anxiety. Even before our loss, pregnancy wasn't just another blissful state of being to me, something during which I could be normal. Especially now, pregnancy to me is a dangerously tenuous state, always one pain away from life-destroying, and I will always be in awe of women who go about normal lives while pregnant rather than experiencing debilitating fear every second.

3 How do you answer the 'how many children' question? I've only been asked once since our loss. I said "none" and then felt like I'd been punched in the stomach. In the future I'd like to say I'll be strong enough to say "No living children", or "We had two but they died," but I can't promise I'll have that strength.

4 How did you explain what happened to your lost baby to your living children? Or, if this was your first pregnancy, will you tell future children about your first? I don't have living children. If we ever have children, I will absolutely tell them about our Doodles. The Doodles will be a part of the family, if not through living presence, through their memory.

5 What would another pregnancy mean to you, and how would you get through it—or are you done with babymaking? Another pregnancy would mean a lot of conflicting things. It would mean another chance at happiness and the life we imagined for ourselves. It would also mean the most excruciating nine months of my life (see 2 above), and potentially another loss, considering that the reason behind our loss, placental abruption, has a much higher incidence for women who have experienced one before. We were so anxious already, I honestly am having a hard time imagining getting through another, but we have to try.

6 Imagine being able to step back in time and whisper into the ear of your past self the day after your baby died. What would you say? I don't think I am far enough out from our loss to have the wisdom of distance. I have nothing to offer my past self - I can't yet promise that she will get through this, that would be hypocritical. Perhaps after more time has passed.