Dear Alexander…
I’ve had this draft sitting here since March. I couldn’t find the words to say I wanted to, and I’m not sure I can now either. 2022 marks 5 years since my miscarriage. Not only is my life unrecognizable from what it was 5 years ago, but I’m a completely different person. There is not a day that goes by where I don’t wonder “what if” and think about what my life might be if I had never lost Alexander. I certainly wouldn’t be living in New York nor would I have the friends that I do. Often times I feel as if there is an alternate reality version of me that is living a completely different life with a 4 year old running around. The thought of it is sometimes too much to bear. When I look at my life and the person I’ve become, the people I’ve met, and how much everything has changed, I don’t recognize the person I was 5 years ago. She was a broken shell of a human being barely even living the life that was thrust upon her. The only way I was able to escape that life… was by losing Alexander.
Tucked away in a closet of my apartment are a couple of boxes filled with things: cards, tickets, trinkets collected over the years. I save everything! In one of those boxes is a notebook that I had written in during my brief pregnancy. My plan was to give it as a gift on a special milestone birthday. The last entry is heartbreaking and basically says, “I’m sorry I never got to meet you.” If I were to write a letter to Alexander now, as the person I became through losing him, what would it even say?
Grief changes us in profound ways and it never stops. It’s not linear. There are constant ups and downs as we learn to navigate life through grief and loss. Now, 5 years later, I can honestly say that there are days where I don’t feel the grief like a giant weight on my chest. I can see a baby or even a small child and not want to immediately curl up into a ball and hide from the world. Maybe I’ve learned to live with the loss so much so that it doesn’t feel like an outward presence anymore. It’s very internal now. A tug at the heart, an ache deep in my being of something not here that should be. But even when I feel these downswings into the world of grief, I still think about the person I’ve become through the loss. I’ve learned who I am and what I need out of life. I’ve learned how to set boundaries, but I’ve also learned that it’s ok to let the walls down every now and then. I’ve learned to trust and love and embrace what comes my way.
So if I were to write a letter now, I think it might go something like this…
Dear Alexander.
The day I lost you was the worst day of my life. I never knew it was possible to feel so much grief and loss for someone I never even got the chance to know. Through losing you, though, I became strong. I learned what I need. I’ve learned how I deserve to be treated and what I will no longer tolerate. I learned to trust myself again. Losing you was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to go through, but in the end it made me who I am today.
Love always,
Your mom
It’s not perfect and there’s probably so much more I could say, but it’s honest. I am not the same person I was and I’ll never allow myself to be in a situation where I get remotely close to being that person again.
This me is strong.
This is is a fighter.
This me refuses to give up.
If that’s the only takeaway I have 5 years later, then I think it’s a pretty good one.
- Danielle
