Missing the Life I Never Had

August 9, 2012

It’s an odd feeling to miss something you never had. To wonder about how life would have been and long for it so much. There are times the enorminty of what I lost hits me and it feels like the first time all over again.

One of the hardest parts for me has been the fact that the pregnancy I had will never happen again. Now hear me out – I’m not saying if you lost one baby you can just go out and get yourself pregnant again and all better. I know it’s never the same. But with me, it’s different because I lost an entire life. I lost being a mom of twins, having a twin pregnancy, all the things that go with it. I lost raising two identical boys, watching them grow up, seeing the men they become.

I will never, ever have that. Ever. I mean, the chances are really not in my favor.

And so pondering another pregnancy in the future isn’t easy. I will never again feel two babies move in side of me, hear two heartbeats on the doppler, see two little wiggling forms on the ultrasound. 

I try not to feel sorry for myself in all this, we have Bella and the adoption. We have a very sweet little life here. I think what gets me is how sad I am for how happy I was about it all. There is a part of me that feels so sad for the girl 3ish months ago who was unaware of what was going to happen.

I take myself back to the day my water broke and want to rewind and scream, “No, no – don’t head back to the bathroom, it’s all going to end there!”

And yet nothing I could have done would have prevented it. It’s hard to comprehend one minute rubbing my stomach and the next feeling the amniotic fluid gush down my legs. Life just – gone.

I want this adoption to get moving so much simply for the fact that in many ways, I feel like since I came home from the hospital my life rewinded to last year. Mother of one (on earth). Hesitant about being pregnant ever again.

It’s such a strange thing. In the middle of life reversing, I have all these memories and dreams of something that I never tangibly got to have, but ended up changing everything anyway.

Then there is the part of me that is fiercely proud I had that life ever – for a brief moment it was mine. They are always mine.

I’m reminded that the life I have now is so full of blessings, and while I will long for the one with my sons forever, I choose to try to be content with what I was given instead. It’s hard. But it’s about the only real control I have over any of it. The choice with how I deal with losing it all.


  • Mickelle

    September 20, 2012 at 7:59 pm

    I just happened across your blog tonight. I’m a mess of tears and not really capable of forming too many coherent thoughts, but I wanted to share something with you.


    “It’s now known that cells from a developing fetus cross the placenta, allowing the baby’s DNA to become part of the mother’s body. These fetal cells persist in a woman’s body into her old age. (If she has been pregnant with a male child it’s likely she’ll have some Y-chromosomes drifting around for a few decades too). This is true even if the baby she carried didn’t live to be born. The cells of that child stay with her, resonating in ways that mothers have known intuitively throughout time.”

    The article has more to say, and I hope you’ll take a minute to read it. The science in this article is baffling, humbling, endearing, and poetic. In some ways, your boys are are with you even now.

    Much love,

  • Amanda Haney

    August 11, 2012 at 11:53 am

    I am so sorry to hear this. I know that feeling of thinking that you might not ever be pregnant again and it’s hard to have people understand how it is. I will pray that you find peace and that you heal.

  • Iris Waichler

    August 11, 2012 at 9:17 am

    Hi Diana:
    Thank you for sharing this deeply personal and painful post with others. There is no real way to put into words the type of loss you have experienced but you surely have captured the feelings associated with the loss and a future you will not have. I am sending thoughts and prayers to you. I want you to know that your words have touched many people, and will help others understand this type of loss, and offer comfort to others who have shared your pain and felt they were alone in their grief. I hope that the support you receive from others will bring some measure of comfort in the days ahead.

  • Phyllis

    August 11, 2012 at 8:10 am

    I found your blog a month or so ago through a military wives blog list. I pray that time will give you peace. My journey went through 9 years of fertility treatments, 5 miscarriages (2 after 20 weeks), and a set of twins and a singleton. All while moving around with the Army. The twins are 23 and the ‘baby’ is now 20. I’ll never know what life would have been if things had been different, but I know that my faith and time have made the pain a part of my life’s story and changed who I am. My prayers are with you as you walk through your sorrow and grief towards a place of peace.

  • Amy

    August 9, 2012 at 8:11 pm

    Diana, I think about you all the time, especially since we met last week. I hope you’ll find peace after the loss of Julian and Preston. I pray time will heal. Maybe that little miracle in Korea will help. Hugs to Bella!

  • Becki

    August 9, 2012 at 6:55 pm

    I’m so sorry for all that you are going through. I pray that time will heal, but don’t ever forget those special sweet boys…

  • Stephanie

    August 9, 2012 at 3:23 pm

    It’s hard. No getting around that. My little Peridot was due August 21st. It was an early (6-7weeks) missed miscarriage. At the time I thought, we’d just move on, try again. Like if I got pregnant again quickly, we’d move forward, and life would continue…as we’d planned, I guess. But still no baby. Not for me. Just stuck here waiting…..

  • AlbertaMom

    August 9, 2012 at 2:46 pm

    Diana, I feel the same same way as you. My identical twin boys were born prematurely in 2008, passing away within an hour. I can’t believe it’s been four years because in the moments of grief it is still just as overwhelmingly sad as the day they died. I’ll never get to take care of identical twin boys. I’ll never get to dress them the same, or be so proud when people talk about how special they are, or tell people which one is which, or send them to school together with matching (or not matching!) backpacks. Even after four years, the moments become farther apart, but they are as painful as they ever were. I don’t think our grief is more or less than anyone else’s, I just think it has a different dimension to it because of how unique and rare identical twins are. Sometimes I think, “maybe God will give me twins again because He knows how much I’d love them and how good a mom I’d be to them”…it is so heartbreaking.

  • Debi (@TruthfulMommy)

    August 9, 2012 at 1:25 pm

    I really wish I could just give you a hug. I know that longing for the life I will never have and I know about not knowing if I will get pregnant again. In fact, I know I won’t. I can’t. I am too afraid of losing again. I will never know what it’s like to have 3 children running around playing together. I will never know what it’s like to be the mommy of a boy ( which I am certain in my heart that’s what we lost). I will never get to know any of that and it hurts my heart every day. I’m not curled up in a ball crying anymore but I am mourning for what will never be again.I do take a small comfort knowing that my baby is with God and that someday, I will get to hold him in my arms, as you will your beautiful little boys. XO

  • Arnebya

    August 9, 2012 at 1:01 pm

    I think it’s perfectly natural pine for, want, wish for, grieve that life. It is not an indication of where you are with acknowledging blessings. You have every right to miss what could have been, what you wanted to be. I think it makes sense that yes, you are happy with your family (on Earth) of three and you want to get the adoption moving. At the same time, you will always in your heart be a family of +2 more.

  • Gay Molise

    August 9, 2012 at 10:42 am

    I’m so sorry, I do know what you are feeling, as it happened to me. Between my son (now 35) and my daughter (now 17) I had 2 miscarriages, an ectopic pregnancy and a little boy who was born with severe challenges and only survived 16 days. At the time, my son was 2 1/2. I don’t know how I got through the next months, or parented my son. I do know I took advantage of the help that was offered. I couldn’t stop thinking of things like my son not growing up with his younger brother. My marriage fell apart a little more than a year later, and I’ve often wondered if my husband and I would still be together if our child had lived. If it had though, I wouldn’t have my wonderful husband of 24 years who helped raise my son, and my daughter. Now that my son is a father of two, a darling boy who is a little over two and a precious newborn daughter, I realize I have another chance to enjoy seeing the siblings grow up together. That they are my grandchildren and not my children doesn’t seem important. I feel the pain you are dealing with through your very eloquent words. I think writing is going to be your salvation. Best of luck on your adoption journey. My son and his wife were going to go that direction after their son was born at 26 weeks. They didn’t want to chance another preemie pregnancy, but they got pregnant despite not trying to, and my granddaughter hung in there until 37 weeks. Now they feel their family is complete. You have to follow your gut feelings, do what your heart tells you.

  • Andrea

    August 9, 2012 at 10:32 am

    I know it is just a fraction of what you are going through. But at 16 weeks I started spotting with my fourth baby (a baby we didn’t entirely expect). And my first thought was, “I’ll never be a mother to four. We’ll never try again. This is it.”
    It didn’t turn out that way. But I still remember those moments so clearly. My heart goes out to you every day!

  • Phase Three of Life

    August 9, 2012 at 10:09 am

    It must be so beyond difficult, to always think about what could have been, what should have been. *hugs* Thinking about you!

  • LDiggitty

    August 9, 2012 at 9:46 am

    I’m so sorry… I can’t even imagine. I’m 4 1/2 months into my first pregnancy, and I just can’t even wrap my mind about what you’ve gone through. I’m so sorry – but so proud of you for being so strong! You’re an inspiration! 🙂

  • molly

    August 9, 2012 at 8:37 am

    I cannot imagine what is must feel like to wonder about that life. The one you didn’t get. But I read what you write and the fact that you can remain thankful for what you have in this moment – well, that just says millions about the person and mother that you are. Hugs, friend.

  • Amber

    August 9, 2012 at 8:24 am

    Hugs and prayers for you today!!

  • Ashley

    August 9, 2012 at 8:22 am

    It is hard to live in the moment and truly appreciate all that we have in front of us. Almost 33 months later and I’ve only found that it becomes harder and harder to live in the moment….

    Big (((HUGS))) Diana!

  • Good Girl Gone Green

    August 9, 2012 at 8:16 am

    Oh, Diana! I just want to hug you again and again. You are such an amazing person, and I only wish you the best. I can’t say I understand what you are going through because I have never experienced what you experienced. All I can say is I think of you often, and hope this gets a little easier with time.

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