Here I am, writing something I never thought I would have to, feeling something I never thought I would feel. Now, I look back on this day with such bittersweet feelings.
No one ever talks about miscarriages. I had no idea how many of my friends had been through this, until it happened to me.
I recently kept the three positive pregnancy tests that had gazed at me each morning for the past six weeks. I don’t know why I didn’t throw them out sooner. Maybe it’s because they were a reminder to me that I was able to get pregnant. Maybe I just wasn’t able to let go of the reminder that I once was.
I deleted the two pregnancy applications on my phone, unsubscribed from the pregnancy newsletters that I read daily, and deleted the week-to-week countdown on my personal calendar. I didn’t need the sad notifications reminding me of what could’ve been.
I needed to move forward. I was pretending to be strong and doing what I felt I needed to do. Fake it ‘til you make it, right?
I kept the three positive pregnancy tests that it took to convince me I was expecting and stored them in my drawer. Again, I don’t know why. Everything else would be deleted just as if this had never happened—as if this baby had never existed.
Surgery day came and went, and I wanted nothing more than for my body to heal after what it had gone through. I wanted to feel like everything was back to normal.
It’s been six days since my miscarriage and so much has happened since. I stay busy and distracted.
But every so often, I think about it. I feel sad and sometimes still cry.
I’ve done a lot of reading about pregnancy loss and miscarriages the last few days. Connecting with other women through their stories has helped me in this process. I’m devastated, I’m still mourning, and that’s okay. Learning that I’m not the only one feeling this way has been helpful.
We need to remember: we are not alone.
It’s okay to run and find a private place to ball your eyes out because one more person announced their pregnancy “while they weren’t even trying.” It’s okay to feel shameful for your reaction, all while sharing in their joy.
It’s normal to feel sorrow in between the happy moments of your life. It’s okay to feel frustrated when women continuously ask when you’re going to have a baby because “you’re not getting any younger.” They don’t know your story. I used to be that woman who so carelessly and ignorantly asked that very personal question.
It’s okay to feel fear, doubt, and hope at the same time. Or to get angry at your body for tricking you when your period comes late.
Know that it’s fine to miss someone you never met. Know that there are no rules to this thing. It’s simply okay to not be okay sometimes. It’s okay to do you.
As heartbreaking as this whole experience has been, allowing myself to process all the emotions has made me stronger. I’m trying to focus one day at a time, on the future. At the moment that is hard, as it’s all still so raw; I wake up in the morning and there are a blissful few seconds where I feel normal, then I’ll remember, and the ache in my heart returns and I’ll sit quietly next to the loss.
I believe that there is somewhere so peaceful that we go to when we pass, some place that our tiny human brains cannot even begin to comprehend. Somewhere out there, beyond our vast universe, the life I briefly created will be at peace.
Goodbye, my little one, I will always be your mummy; just know how loved you were, and that I’ll love you every single day, forever, more than you’ll ever know.
See you again someday.