It always boggles my mind the amount of people that thank influencers (celebrities, bloggers, etc.) for sharing their miscarriage story because;
1) They have gone through it themselves and finding someone to relate to is imperative in the healing process.
2) Because not enough people talk about it and educate others.
Obviously a multitude of reasons can transpire, but these just happen to be the most two common that I see. Discussing miscarriage tends to be a taboo subject similar to politics or men who wear white pants #sorrynotsorry.
Hubs and I talked at length after EV was born about having another baby, we knew that it would be wonderful for EV to have a sibling. Watching Hubs with his own brother and their amazing synchronous relationship made me want it desperately for EV. I also knew our window to try was small, we had embarked on that age where they tell you the percentage for things that could potentially develop are in a much smaller bracket. Plus, with everything that occured the first go around, we did not want to press our luck.
What I was not prepared for, was getting pregnant as quick as I did and the fear that would engulf me.
Finding out your pregnant after both a miscarriage and a non-traditional pregnancy that we barely emotionally survived is a weird mix. On the one hand you want to celebrate, create all the amazing pregnancy announcements, and take multiple Instagram worthy pictures of your belly. However, there is the other side, where you do not want to document a single thing. Documenting meant that it was real and if it is real, there is a real terror that the life inside of you will not come to fruition. Any picture taken will be a reminder of what never came to be and then having to decide if you truly want to go through the heartache ache of trying while at the same time celebrating those and their pregnancies around you (no matter how happy you are, putting on a brave face can be hard). Even before I took a pregnancy test, I had already come to terms that if this pregnancy wasn't meant to be that this would be it, I would enjoy my perfectly normal healthy daughter who I was blessed with and leave well enough alone.
I refuse to take the pregnancy tests with the lines. I cannot make sense of them to save my life and there is always that one line that is 'hidden' which forces you to embarrassingly send or show at least ten more individuals the stick and then have them take a stab at there being 'one line or two.' I should have created a drinking game over this that could have served as my last hurrah as well. Reading the words "pregnant" was a surreal experience. I called our OB, let the office know of the results as well as reiterated what happened the first time and my age so that my appointment would not be pushed too far out.
An appointment was set for the 7 week mark. I hated this week mark, this is the week mark where I had been told that there was no heartbeat, where options were provided to me, where I was told that there was nothing that I nor my body could have done to prevent it from happening and that it was "common" for women my age. Waiting three weeks to the seven week mark was torture. We went about our day to day as if nothing was happening. Not acknowledging it kept our emotions safe, but was so very disheartening at the same time as we were so excited and wanted to share the news with everyone we came across. We also decided not to tell anyone in our immediate family until we felt we were in a safer time time-frame. I only informed my work family in the case of anything happening and needing immediate time off. Driving twenty minutes to the appointment with our fingers entwined and in complete silence seemed to take hours. Twenty minutes in the waiting room gave my mind enough time to go to a dark place and prepare to hear the words "I'm sorry, but there is no heartbeat" and seconds later when the doppler hit my stomach I released a breath I didn't realize I was holding until...
THUMP.....THUMP....THUMP...
Hearing the heartbeat for the first time was numbing and brought me to tears. At the same time, I put myself back into a space of preparing for anything that could be said to us in the upcoming appointments. For a person who is predominantly active and eats somewhat healthy #hereslookingatyoutacos you are still given a laundry list of things that could occur with the baby and that you need to be tested for. I am so good at waiting mind you.... #patienceofatsetsefly
For the most part and according the to the professionals looking at the monitor everything showed what appeared to be a completely normal pregnancy. Having never had one of these, I have no idea what to expect. In addition, I took home an almost five-month old baby not a newborn, so I am in unchartered waters for the first time. Any ideas to what I do with a newborn?
At about the fourth month, we began to share the news in small increments and whispered tones as if sharing the information was going to destroy the inner workings of my body and the baby inside me. We tampered other people's excitement with statements like "we are just waiting to get past the 22 week mark." We heard a lot of "its going to be fine", "the second baby develops differently after your first", "your body is ready now", etc., but all these proclamations came from individuals who had never experienced a miscarriage or a baby for an extended amount of time in the NICU. Do not get me wrong, I know it came from a place of love, but it did not make it any easier to hear. Hubs and I were so consumed with trying to have another baby after the miscarriage and then having to deal with EV in the NICU that the realities of the miscarriage itself did not have time to manifest the way it was now.
Nobody telling me how to grieve was a double-edged sword. I needed someone to tell me how to feel. I didn't know what and how I was supposed to be feeling, but it also gave me the freedom to grieve my way. With no one telling me I was right or wrong for the feeling the way I was, it allowed me to take it in stride or with as much feeling as I needed for that moment's survival. And boy, were there some moments. I raged. I raged to myself. I raged to my family. I raged to the husband and I raged to friends who were just there to listen (you are my people and I love you with my whole heart, I never would have survived without you). And you know what?! It felt damn good to be unapologetic for it! I can say this with certainty, much like deaths we experience in our adult lives, you will never get over it, but the conversation surrounding the events will become less rage-y and more retrospective.
Sometimes in order to heal, we must do the hard things first. Often this involves speaking on a subject we have avoided with all of our soul. Often it is sharing a vulnerability we either didn't know existed or are not ready to admit that it is a part of us. Sometimes it is just for a connection, any connection that we may need to experience with others (even if they are strangers to us). Having seen the amount of sharing from such strong women on social media, I can't imagine what it must feel like to hold in such a sorrow and only release is when someone else shares theirs first.
I no longer have difficulty verbalizing that I miscarried before EV. I do however occasionally struggle with the emotion of what never came to be. A feeling that although I may not deal with every day, will be tethered to me for the rest of my life.
In the almost three years since navigating this experience I can tell you this...
It is important to have human interaction, but be open to it and do not force yourself to have it. Do not be afraid to tell your friends family that although you want to be around them, you may not feel like communicating just yet. Do not be afraid to reach out to those around you who may not be part of your immediate circle and ask questions, listen to both their own story and their advice and most importantly do not be afraid to breakdown when you need too. Join a local support group, blogging community or thread online where you can take the time to feel and be around those who know your plight no matter where in the process you or they are.
These will be your people, find your people.
and love them fiercely....