Making it Through My Miscarriage

This has to be the hardest blog post I've done. I've asked myself if it's the right thing to do. So many women want their miscarriage to be a private event. And mine is. But what's so difficult about the miscarriage--beyond the physical discomfort--is the emotional toll it takes. I've felt isolated with this. I knew it could be a possibility and once it was confirmed I've felt pregnant with guilt and hurt and blame. And suddenly everyone around me--good friends, 16-year-old girls, women at the doctor's office--is pregnant and I'm not. And there's a sense of shame that comes with that. Lots of blame. And questioning. Why did I tell people? Did I not want this pregnancy enough? Did I do something wrong? How come her and not me? 

This cyclical thinking can go on and on for hours and you find yourself alone at home, sinking into yourself more and more. You don't want to talk to people. You don't want to have to tell family or friends you're not pregnant anymore. You don't want to go out. You want to hide all your friends on Facebook who put up pics of their kids because it hurts to see something you don't have anymore. You want to pretend the last 8 weeks were a bad dream. That this isn't happening. The bottles of pills lined up on the counter aren't there. The box of pads by the toilet. The water bottles to combat dehydration. The constant cramping and nausea. You put away the pregnancy books. Delete the apps from your phone.

 And during this time you still have to function! You still have to move on. Everyone else is. But as I've come out and talked about it to some family and co-workers, I've found that I'm not alone in this. Plenty of women (some estimates are as high as 50%) experience miscarriage and you often don't know who they are until you experience it too. Message boards have been my lifeline the last few days. I've had a lot of support from people I never thought to look for help from. They've asked questions. Offered advice. Books to read. But most importantly they've said, "I know what you're going through." That helps so much at a time like this where no one understands what you're going through (even well meaning friends and family) until they've gone through it. For me, writing has always been an outlet. And my blog never makes me feel alone. And whether or not some women would go so public, I've decided (and talked with my husband) that it's the best thing for me. It isn't for some women and there's nothing, nothing wrong with that. But this is how I recover. It's a private feeling  not a dirty secret. 

I hope as I recover  that they'll be a better sense of clarity for me.  I turn 30 next week and this was not the birthday present I saw for myself. But I hope I make it through as other women have, and if you've experienced this, know you're not alone either. And maybe motherhood isn't for me now. But I'd like it to be. Soon. And next time I pray for healthy and happy baby and me.


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