Have you ever been talking, somewhat loudly, and all of the sudden- it gets quiet. Still. And your voice is the ONLY one.
This has happened so many times. I mean, honestly, you would think I would just learn to be silent. But if you’ve not figured this out, please learn it now: I was not created to be silent.
So here I go, at the encouragement of a random Instagram quote and a friend, I am stomping into a room filled with mostly silent people. And I am not being quiet.
http://www.marchofdimes.org says this: “Miscarriage (also called early pregnancy loss) is when a baby dies in the womb before 20 weeks of pregnancy. For woman who know they’re pregnant, about 10 – 15 in 100 pregnancies (1-5%) end in miscarriage. As many as half of all pregnancies may end in miscarriage. We don’t know the exact number because miscarriage may happen before a woman knows she’s pregnant.”
It seems like a small percentage, I mean 1 to 5%.. that seems so small.
I have had 3. 2 at the 11 week mark, 1 very early. And a stillborn.
As I type this blog, Monday August 6th, 2018, I am recuperating from an early morning surgical procedure because I was just pregnant again. And again, I “lost” it. (Honestly, such an awful way to word that. As if it’s misplaced!)
Pregnant again. Some of you are shocked. Yep, so was I. Some of you have opinions about it, keep them to yourself. Or if you must, write them down, then burn it.
My silence on this blog page has consisted of me in real life trying to accept this and be a mom while being constantly nauseated, while riding the emotional roller coaster that comes along with being pregnant 6 months after a still birth.
My silence here has been me complaining to a few close friends. Expressing my shock and frustration.
Last week as I sat in the doctor’s office and answered all the nosy questions, chatted about the very real risks I was facing, I had a sense. She could not find a heartbeat and ordered an immediate ultrasound. Again, the tech was easy to read and I knew there was an issue.
As I waited impatiently to be given the results, I could feel myself slowly shut down. And that has not changed much. This is an honest post and some of you may feel you don’t like it, and that’s okay. It is not written to hurt feelings, it is written to cause awareness.
As I read the news later this morning, I saw Carrie Underwood is coming under fire for her statements. Along with being one in so many woman who has suffered multiple losses, there has been fertility issues. I had two miscarriages before I had Callan. There is an almost 4 year gap between my boys.
To a stranger who asks, I do not reveal all my heartache. I simply say (if they say something about the age gap), “this is how it happened” and I shrug.
I do not understand infertility to the extent some do. But my heart hurts for them. I admire them for moving forward in the pain that they do experience. The grieving they must do.
To the room of women I am blasting into here: I GET IT.
I get it.
And no, if you do not have the courage or “want to” to share your struggle publicly, THAT IS OKAY!
In fact, it is more than okay. THIS is your story, your pain, and you choose how to handle it. I hope you have ones you love who are getting into their muck boots and walking with you. Lovin’ on you whether you’re happy or sad, or riding the rollercoaster of grief and aren’t sure which emotion you’re in.
I have “lost” (THAT WORD IS MAKING ME MAD!) more babies than I kiss goodnight.
I have buried a stillborn. I am acquainted with grief, with anger, with pain, with loss.
Miscarriages are common. If you’re stuck in your grief and feeling alone, email me.
I GET IT.
Going public with your experience may not be something you can do, but when you hear of a mom at church who has, reach out.
Some of the greatest encouragement I received this time is from 2 women I have actually never met in person.
Love people where there are, not everyone is as open and honest about their pain.
In fact, I am not even always. Even I struggle to let people see me where I actually am, because I fear their response. And ladies, that’s awful.
We told very few people. We announced the loss publicly because whatever is past broken and numb is where I am currently existing.
I don’t need pity. I need love and encouragement. Maybe chipotle. I need gummies (Seriously, I can’t get enough of them!!!) I need crappy tv and friend or two who can make me laugh or sit and watch crappy tv. I need sleep. I need rest. I might need help.
I need love. It’s an action word.
I am not begging. I have ladies who have loved on me. A friend did some shopping for me. Another is bringing a meal. A surprise basket of goodies for my boys, plate of cookies, and a fun bag for me greeted us when we arrived home this evening. People I didn’t know even knew.
L O V E
Chances are, in whatever you face, you are not alone.
Maybe this post has been more about me letting out my feelings. Maybe this isn’t even making sense.
I feel somewhat better.
And despite being a rebel, I am following doctor’s orders. (Mostly)
As always, with love,
P.S. I was serious. If you have suffered miscarriage, multiple ones, or still birth and you feel alone, I am here. I get it. I will feel alllllll the emotions right along with you. Currently my love will be reading and replying and sharing life but depending on your location, I will do my best to turn that into an action word. YOU ARE NOT ALONE. And don’t forget that! Hugs!