I couldn’t decide whether or not to blog about this, because it’s very private and I’m not one to share too many details of my private life. But, writing is one of my forms of therapy, so even though this is tough to put out there, I know it will be therapeutic.
When you lose a baby, and the world knows, it goes without saying that the world also realizes that you’ll be trying to get pregnant again in the near future. So I’m in this place right now where I feel like people are constantly waiting for this news from us. And every time I make an unexpected phone call, or say, “Guess what?!”, I always feel the need to follow with, “I’M.NOT.PREGNANT.”
Trust me, people, if I were in control of the universe, I would have a rounded belly right now, still counting down the days to July 30th, the due date we were so excited about back in November when we saw two promising lines.
But I’m not in control of a lot of things, much to my dismay. J
There are some people who go off of birth control, have a laid-back, month o’ fun, then BAM they’re pregnant. There are people who forget a pill or two and end up with those surprising two lines. And then there are people who calculate timing down to a science, who know TOO much about the human body, and month after month, hold a pee stick up sideways in the light, squinting their eyes to try to imagine a second line.
“It’ll happen when you least expect it.”
“Just relax, have fun.”
“Before you know it, you’ll be pregnant again!”
I understand these words are spoken from a place of kindness, but if one more person says something like this to me they may need to duck.
Y’all – getting your period when you’re trying to get pregnant sucks. No nicer way to put it. It’s like, “Hey, guess what, you are NOT pregnant!!!!”
Getting your period month after month after you lose a baby, a baby whose heart you heard beating beautifully inside of you, feels like a kick in the gut.
And it’s easy to feel so hopeless.
And I usually let myself – I let myself feel the sadness, the darkness of what could have and should have been – and then I pick myself up, dust myself off, and no matter how hard it is…
I choose hope.