You can read from the start here
A preface: I have found writing this blog post really hard. I have loads of draft posts and nothing complete. This is the longest I’ve gone without posting. I have lots to say and nothing to say. My mind really is muddled. This post is muddled. This time is muddled. Bear with me.I’m currently on pause. In limbo. Stuck.
After my second miscarriage, I was advised to stop trying for a couple of months to give my body time to heal. And I needed it. I can feel my hormones starting to level out. My last period was much more painful than usual and it felt like my body was having a good clear out. This is good; I’m glad my body is having a sort out. I want it to be ready before we try again. Physically, I am fully behind this process.
But being in this limbo land can be challenging mentally. I’ve found myself shutting down thoughts about miscarriage or pregnancy. I won’t let myself look backwards or forwards. It doesn’t feel healthy. I don’t think it’s right to shy away from reality. But I guess I am worried that processing the past and future (or my concerns about it) will make waiting much harder. Instead, I’ve been doing everything possible to think of other things and distract myself. Focussing on right now.
But right now includes the ache I feel for my lost babies and the emptiness in my womb. It includes my desire to have a sibling for Boo. My yearning for another child to love and nurture. And these feelings are constantly gnawing away even if I do try to stay calm and focussed on now.
Today I unexpectedly got my period. It’s early. I think because I didn’t ovulate this month. My hormones are a bit confused. It brings me closer to trying again. Which terrifies me. And excites me. And so I’m wondering if my hiatus from thinking needs to end. I can’t try again if I’m not mentally ready. So maybe I need to process this all. Maybe I need to be sad about the babies we lost. Maybe it’s ok to hold the babygrows I bought and weep. Maybe it’s time to delete the apps that send me emails each week telling me how pregnant I would be. Time to finally accept that those pregnancies are over. Last week, as I sorted Boo’s wardrobe, I found George’s little Christmas outfit. I buried my face in it and sobbed. It felt good to acknowledge it and cry. It is sad.
Now, sometimes I amaze myself with how stupid and uninsightful I am. I have been through miscarriage before. I knew it was a long journey with ups and downs. But, somehow, I thought that because I was already a mother, these miscarriages wouldn’t be so hard. Somehow I would just get over it. When you know someone who has had a miscarriage, they seem to get over it pretty quickly. No one talks about it after a couple of weeks. I thought that was because they had dealt with it. I thought I would just deal with it. But as time has gone on I’ve become acutely aware that I haven’t just dealt with it. I don’t talk about it all the time because it doesn’t feel right. But I think about it. And it hurts. It makes me deeply sad.
It happened twice.
Does that mean something is wrong with me?
Once is normal. That’s what I told myself after losing George. Plenty of women experience miscarriage. It’s normal. Something was wrong with George and he needed to go. Then it happened again and I can’t help but wonder if it’s not the babies but me that is the problem. God. That’s a thought that has been buried deep. If feels good to air it.
I know women who have struggled to conceive.
I know women who have had no miscarriages.
I know women who have had one miscarriage.
And I know women who have had lots of miscarriages.
I’m afraid that I’m in this camp. I’m afraid that Meadow wasn’t the last baby we will lose. I’m scared my heart will be broken again and that I’m not strong enough to handle it.
But bigger than fear is hope. A couple of days ago Boo asked if there was a baby in my belly. I said that I hoped there would be soon. I really do hope so.
And fear or hope, I will be glad when the limbo is over. I’ve never been good at waiting.
Next: Afraid to try again