32 weeks and 1 day

As I debated whether or not to turn on the light in the bathroom in the middle of the night, it  hit me with absolute certainty that I can never be pregnant again. To spend 9 months, or 6 weeks, or 5 1/2 months, wondering when I will see blood again? The memory of those feelings – of the bleeding –  makes my body want to crumble in on itself. I can’t do it.


The magician chiropractor I see found a belief in the middle of my spine today that he wanted me to release. Turns out that’s where I was holding on to, It’s my fault that Benjamin died. We worked on it. I sobbed. My body told him I’d let it go. I’m not so sure.

It is my fault. Not in the traditional blaming sense. I didn’t actively do anything to cause it although I sometimes wonder if I could have done more to prevent it. I didn’t snort cocaine, have hypertension or get kicked in the stomach – all possible reasons for a placental abruption. I can forgive myself for the fact that I had a little coffee, didn’t get quite enough sleep, picked my daughter up and ate sugar occasionally.  Maybe if I’d seen my acupuncturist, or had more Reiki, or waited longer between miscarriage and pregnancy I would be 32 weeks and 1 day today. Maybe not.

But it’s my misshapen uterus that might have caused it. Or if you want to get all spiritual, there are a number of possible reasons for Benjamin’s death. It was my body that couldn’t carry him, therefore, I am somehow, at least partly, responsible. Otherwise I’d be nothing more than a victim in this situation and I refuse to feel that way. The whole things sucks and at the same time, this has been one of the most beautiful, empowering, life-changing experiences. Somehow I have to make room for both of those to be okay.


October 1st.

How did I get here?

November 25th is looming large.

We will have a new home by then. We’ll go away for a few days. We will stay at a hotel so I can spend Thanksgiving in bed and tell housekeeping, Not today, if I want to. We can say goodbye to Ben’s ashes if that feels right and eat $38 ‘smores by the Ritz-Carlton fire pit if that sounds fun. We can do whatever we want, anything we want, except hold our son in our arms again.

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0 Responses to 32 weeks and 1 day

  1. Denise says:

    Alana – I worked with your husband, Steve, several years ago and saw your blog link on his Facebook page. I can’t begin to imagine the depths of loss that your family is experiencing. I am so terribly sorry for what you have gone through. No one should ever have these life experiences; yet so many do.

    Thank you for sharing what you are going through and for being so courageous with your blog and in your life. I shared it recently with a dear friend who is traveling her own journey of loss. The journey of grief can just be so devastatingly overwhelming at times and I know that reading your words was so helpful for her.

    You are a beautiful writer and one that I’m sure touches a great many souls. You are an even more beautiful person. Please be kind and gentle with yourself in the days, weeks & months ahead. Know that you are being thought of & being prayed for. Blessings, Denise Buehring

  2. Jessica says:

    Oh Alana I do wish I could give you a huge hug. That we could go out to a coffee shop and in a secluded corner away from prying eyes just talk about our babies and cry. But since that is not possible I just want you to know that I am walking and crying with you. I wish I could bring you some peace. Just know that you have a special place in my heart my friend <3

  3. lis says:

    Its not your fault. It isn’t mine either. Its just too easy to second guess ourselves, others, circumstances. Truth is, we’ve been through hell for reasons unbeknownst to us we will never know why. And that is such a hard thing to wrap our brains around. Its just not fair, none of it and I’m so sorry. I wish I had more words, more comfort, but you and I know nothing helps. I’m so glad to hear that you are taking care of yourself. I hope that when you do pass your dear one’s due date, you are filled with a tiny sense of peace and closure, as I was. The days leading up to it were much much worse. Xoxo Lis

  4. Stacy says:

    You can and you will. I am living, breathing proof of what is to come of you. You have your own path of course and there is peace. I still have Alexander’s ashes and at this point in my life – I believe I want him to be scattered in the wind or ocean with me. Once his protector – always his protector – no matter what. Loving you.

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