I read a post this morning at My Perfect Breakdown.
It was about memento’s: saving things and marking the dates of our lost babies.
We’ve never given our lost ones names, or done anything commemorative. When you lose several pregnancies each year, it would be kind of crazy to keep up with it all.
What I did have though, tucked away on my iPhone, was a 20 second recording of my baby boy’s heartbeat. It was recorded from a doppler just a few days before he died at 10 weeks 4 days (early for a doppler, I know, but I’m very small and one of the lucky people who actually got to hear it before 12 weeks).
That file has sat on my phone for almost exactly one year, and I’ve listened to it maybe half a dozen times. It has a strong, regular, galloping sound. The sound of life. The sound of my child. That tiny baby I held in the palm of my hand after I miscarried. I always wondered how it could sound so strong one day, and be gone so soon afterwards.
I thought of it after reading the post above, and I went into my phone to find it.
It’s no longer there.
Looking online, it seems that the last upgrade to iOS 8 wipes out voice memo data. Sometimes it is recoverable with software, but I have tried, and mine is gone.
Just disappeared, into nothing.
I am so very, very sad.
I’m not big on sentimentality. I don’t hoard stuff (any more), but I didn’t know that the last time I listened to that sound, would be the last time I listened to it. I wasn’t ready.
It feels like a sign. A sign that everything about this is slipping away from me. That it really is all over and I will never, ever have another child.
Right now, today, I don’t even want to try any more.
I’m too tired of it all. Defeated. Broken down. I surrender. I can’t fight any more because I have no fight left.
And I feel relief. Relief that we actually don’t have to go on doing this to ourselves. Relief that if we stop I will never have to go through another miscarriage.
It’s all just too sad today.