Moving Forward

I’m not going to lie, the miscarriage was difficult.  It’s taken these last two months to get over the physical aftereffects and to get to the point where I can (usually) discuss it without tearing up. 

Before I got pregnant with Mimi I had had a very early miscarriage, one where I found out I was pregnant and then a week later found out that I had miscarried.  This loss was different and much harder.

I had spent the last few months feeling very pregnant–being fatigued, feeling a bit lightheaded, swelling up and starting to outgrow my clothes.  I had been a little paranoid about losing the baby (what woman isn’t?) but had started to relax the closer we got to the magical 12-week mark and we had started to share the excitement with family and friends.

And then three days before my 12-week appointment I woke up bleeding and I instantly knew what it meant.

It was a Sunday morning and since my ob’s office was closed N and I headed to the ER.  An ultrasound confirmed that the pregnancy was undeveloped and unviable.

In some ways it’s comforting to know that it was physically impossible for the pregnancy to result in a baby–that it wasn’t a normally developing fetus that just died suddenly without explanation.  If that had been the case I would struggled with second-guessing myself and wondering if there was anything I could have done to prevent it.  So it’s a blessing to know that it was just one of those things.

I’m relieved to finally be feeling back to normal, physically and emotionally.  After the miscarriage my hormones were all over the place and for two months I struggled daily with feeling betrayed by my own body.  It was miserable because despite its flaws the two of us are usually on pretty good terms.

But, I’m feeling better now and relieved to be doing so.  When I look back over things there is still an ache of disappointment but its jagged edges have been rounded and smoothed by the love I felt from family, friends, and the Lord.

I’m starting to see the humor in a few moments that at the time struck me to the core: when the maternity swimsuit I had ordered for an upcoming trip arrived the day after I miscarried and when my ob at my follow-up appointment remarked after he had a brief sneezing fit, “Wow, I must be allergic to miscarriages!”  (Well, with that last one it’s still 80% astonishment 20% amusement.)

I’m glad to be back posting here.  I might post about some of the things I missed (photos of the kids’ birthdays, details of a surreal trip we got to take to Mexico with N’s work, etc…) but for the most part things will be back to normal around here.

And that feels so good.