You Will Forget One Day or Miscarrying is Lame

Hi Guys. Trigger warning if the title didn’t clue you in, I’m going to talk about having a miscarriage right now.  I have shared pretty openly about things in the past, and so I will share again, but this one might be less humorous than normal, because, well, it has to be.

Charles and I got married on April 5, 2018 because we were trying to get pregnant, and decided that it would be expeditious to go ahead and secretly get married, but we only kept it a secret from my mom and sister, for various reasons that aren’t relevant at the moment.

I freaked out about the decision to marry him, and wondered what would happen if we didn’t have kids, and what my mom would think when she got here, and why it wasn’t romantic to just go to the courthouse, and he threw me a surprise party.  But because I am so perceptive and thought he was planning something I decided I wanted to control the party too, and who was invited, and worry about that.  When my mom got here I panicked all weekend and acted like a paranoid person when I told her that we got married and then she didn’t say anything.

It turns out that she didn’t say anything because Charles had called my mom to ask for her permission to marry me, which some of you hipsters might think it too antiquated, but I found it to be really really sweet.  That and he planned a whole party for me with all my friends, and his friends, etc etc.  I felt to special and beautiful and amazing that someone would do so much for me.

Then a week or so after my mom left from her trip I found out I was pregnant, and instead of happiness I was panicked.  How could I do this?  How could I, a person who couldn’t take care of herself be a mother?  How could I still be a good employee in a new role and have the pregnancy hormones at the same time?  How could I plan to budget for a baby and all of the other stuff we need (like dental work, etc?) Also, why did I feel so shitty and stressed and not elated for this amazing thing I have been wanting for years?  Was it hormones?  Was it the fact that there were now a lot of things out of my control and a lot of pressure to succeed for another human being?  Would I be this panicked when my small human was born, and if so, how could I be his mother if I didn’t even know how to get myself through a bit of anxiety and uncertainty?

Then I lost the baby.  And instead of feeling like I could finally stop asking all these panicked questions I just started asking more and more and more.  Did I lose my precious small human opportunity because I was stressed for the entire duration of my pregnancy?  Was it because I hadn’t quit smoking until I found out I was pregnant?  Was it because my job was too stressful? Was it because Charles did something wrong?  Was this because I wasn’t closer to my family like I have always wanted to be?  Whose fault was this?  It has to be mine. It has to be mine.  It has to be mine.  Because if I take responsibility, then I can also somehow take control of a situation that multiple doctors told me I had no control over, and then I can feel guilt, because with such a great loss must come guilt and the taking of responsibility, right?  

I started writing this post a month ago, and I have to say, I am still struggling with the feelings of guilt that I have.  I wish that I was more confident by now that this miscarriage was not my fault, and that I couldn’t have done anything to prevent it, but every single day, I am sad because of my this loss, and even though people say a lot of things to try and be helpful, nothing helps.  I want to be a mom, and I have documented that on the internet, as well as via google. I have bought baby presents for others, searched the internet about mental health and female fertility issues, and yet I still feel like I might “spill the beans” to someone I am not supposed to.

I think it’s important for me to remember that openness and vulnerability are import facets of adulting.  I hope that sharing my struggles openly with others is helpful in some way that I might not have thought of.  If you wanna talk about wanting attention, then you can focus on me, and the fact that I LITERALLY have a blog called #poststhatmakemymomproud, but I am not even sure if my mom reads my blog.  I don’t need her to read it, I just want to share that it’s hard to be an adult, a human, a coworker, a wannabemother, a friend, a wife, a Quaker, a yogi, a Christian, or an atheist.  It’s hard to be just be.

To those of you struggling with motherhood, or personhood,  I wish you all the deep breathing, and loving support you can get from everyone around you.  I tell people I love them constantly, and I also thank people persistently.  My mom taught me to love everyone, as well as to tell them you are grateful when they have done something you appreciate.  My sister told me it was okay to laugh at myself.  My husband continues to support me financially and emotionally, and my social network continues to reach out to me even though I feel scared by most interactions at this time.

I don’t have any cute photos of memes to share today, just the raw emotion of something that I tried to publish a month ago, but failed to do because I was so worried that someone might “judge me”.  I don’t think anyone is judging me today, and I don’t want to “troll anyone” except myself.

If you follow me on any social media, you know I love my cats, my job, my friends, and my family and my coworkers, and I want to keep growing emotionally, professionally, and even financially.  All the podcasts I listen to, the books I read, and the products I buy typically reflect the fact that as a human, I just want to be kind, giving, and to do my best at all things.  You can always contact me via the contact page, or via my phone if you have the number.  I love you all, and I am thankful for the endless amount of support I have from so many different people.  Especially my husband, mom, sister, and HUGE support system.