It’s been just over a month since my miscarriage. In some ways it feels as though it’s been longer. Other times as though it was just yesterday. I am in a better place than I was even a week ago, but certainly not healed. Not “over” this. And, truthfully, I’m not sure I ever expect to be.
There are many different views of everything and miscarriage is certainly one of those things. I told a friend recently that I was glad I at least had enough sense almost a year ago to tell her to cry, to mourn. Miscarriage was the loss of a baby, a loss of her dream and she had every right and need to grieve. How bizarre that I found myself on the opposite side of that and reminding myself the same thing. I haven’t necessarily felt that I couldn’t or shouldn’t, it just seems (and probably so with a lot of grief) that the world view is you should be past, over, moved on quickly.
Perhaps there is nothing tangible beyond the photo I still have of the positive pregnancy test, but that makes this child no less real to me. I felt the changes. I saw the ultrasound. I had that amazing moment where the unreal of the “2 lines” turns into the real real of “I can see it.” And moments later my world was rocked as the doctor apologized and told me there was no heartbeat. Before the exam he had promised me photos. After, while I saw them on his desk, I was so devastated I didn’t dare look much less ask for one. Even now I’m not sure I would want one. Regardless, the baby was there, the photos are in my file and the existence noted. But to the world beyond, these things are easily brushed aside leaving a very lonely feeling.
Most days I am ok. What is hard are the days it hits me unexpectedly. Like the day last week on my drive to work when I found myself wiping tears from my face, trying to get control before I arrived at the office. Those moments I feel as though I’m thrown backwards emotionally.
In the midst of all of this, I am grateful.
I am grateful that I do have the support of many including friends who have been through miscarriage. One has been especially helpful in answering questions and sharing details of her experience. Letting me feel less alone and helping me to better anticipate what to expect – such as those moments of unexpected grief.
I am also grateful I noticed that something wasn’t quite right the day of my appointment. That I brought up my concerns to my doctor. That he took me seriously and did the ultrasound. I am grateful I had forewarning so I was less panicked when reality set in.
I am grateful for the healthy, wonderful, beautiful 3 and a half year old son I have. He’s certainly gotten a lot more hugs in the weeks since and was a source of comfort during the first doctor’s appointment even while my heart broke when he asked what he saw on the ultrasound monitor.
I am grateful and overall very blessed. These things I know. And yet, my heart still hurts and I still grieve. Because it was a loss. My future, our family’s future shifted. The positives here in no way fix things. That will take time. For now, I continue taking each day as it comes and try to embrace all the emotions that come with it. And I say a prayer of thanks for my family of 3. We are blessed.