#ihadamiscarriage

A couple of weeks ago, after chatting with a good friend, I decided that I would start a new blog. The focus of my blog would be based around the trials and tribulations of choosing to be self-employed and how my life and travel are impacted by that choice.

I never even considered that one of my first posts would be on this topic as it is not something I have really talked about. But my emotions following an Instagram post I made yesterday have me feeling compelled to get these thoughts down in writing. To share my experience. To try and make sense of the words in my head. To join others in showing #wearenotalone.

In June of this year, I suffered a miscarriage.

This isn’t anything that I have been super open about sharing, or talking about. I haven’t gone out of my way to hide it, either. Yet, yesterday, I decided to join the thousands of posts on social media of a lit candle, with the hashtag #WaveOfLight to remember all of the babies would never made it into this world, or, even more heart wrenching, those that made it but just for a short while.

It wasn’t a decision I made lightly. I was torn between supporting all of the other grieving parents out there and staying tucked away in my dark corner. Knowing that putting out a simple post would be the indicator to others that I, too, have lost and wondering what the reaction would be. But, I wanted to show my support more than anything.

What I did not expect, following my post and the response, is how relieved I would feel. So utterly relieved to get this off my chest, when I didn’t even realize it was weighing me down this much! Of course the sadness is also pushing its way out in waves but I feel glad that I posted.

I recently responded to a complete stranger’s post on Instagram about my miscarriage. This stranger had posted some words about their own loss and experience, which really hit home for me. They asked people to feel welcome to reach out and share their experiences, so I did. It’s so much easier telling a complete stranger how you feel sometimes! But their response to me made me feel so sad and guilty. It wasn’t their intention at all, I’m fully aware. They just let me know some of the ways they remember their little souls: Keeping their scan photos in a box with the positive test, along with sympathy cards received and a small trinket on a bracelet with the due dates of their little ones. They hoped that I could do something similar to remember mine.  I instantly felt like I’d failed Baby T.

When we lost our baby, after the initial tsunami of tears in our household (mostly mine, but I’m sure T had his moment, too), I quickly initiated defense mode. It’s what I’ve been doing most of my adult life and is something that I once saw as a great strength of mine but as I get older I’m realizing more and more that it is, perhaps, my biggest flaw. There are multiple reasons I can think of why I grew this way, though I’m sure a psychologist could really dig in to it, but I will hold my hands up and admit that I am fiercely independent and fiercely stubborn. I have good friends, family and a fiancé that I allow and 100% want in my life but at the same time, if anything happened to fuck that all up, my response would be ‘I’ll figure it out. I’ll be fine. I’m strong.’

But the simple truth is I desperately need to learn to be OK with not being OK and that I don’t always need to be strong. Maintaining these defenses can be the most draining thing of all and I’ve been doing it since I was a teen. It’s been a while.

And this is how I dealt with our loss. I cried. I felt responsible. I felt guilty. I felt sick at the thought of having to take pills (the same pills that would be given if abortion was the chosen route) constantly reminding myself that my situation was not the same and I was not ending a life - Our little one was already gone. I went through the excruciating physical pain of the process. I comfort ate like there was no tomorrow!

And then…Up went the wall!

I deleted any photos I had taken of myself and my bloated belly, the photos I’d taken of the announcement message I’d drawn in the sand while we were in Florida, screenshots I’d taken from pregnancy apps detailing Baby T’s progress, deleted all of the damn apps, threw away the positive test and told myself it would be easier if I just purged all of those short-lived memories and moved on. (I don’t think I threw away the first scan photos we got but I honestly can’t tell you where I put them!)

In addition to the sadness and guilt, I also felt pretty resentful of myself and my decision to be self-employed at this moment in time. I couldn’t afford to take time off and recover emotionally and physically. The day that the Nurse told us the worst news of our lives, I couldn’t even let her be the one to start the medication for me because I had a client that I had to cut checks for that day and if I didn’t, people weren’t going to get paid and I couldn’t be responsible for that.  (In hindsight, I really should have just said ‘Fuck it’ and looked after myself, but I have a guilt complex doesn’t allow for that enough. Also another flaw I must work on.) 

So, here I sit today. Feeling like making that Instagram post and being compelled to write a blog post have both been very therapeutic. Knowing that my non-secret is a little more exposed and that I don’t really have to hide it.

I’m racking my brain trying to think where I hid the scan photos so that I can put them somewhere more special. Somewhere I can revisit and cherish.. and somewhere where I can just sit with them and do what I really haven’t done yet – Grieve.

#WaveOfLight #infantandpregnancylossawareness #miscarriage #1in4 #breakthestigma