It's been right around four months since I learned I miscarried. Losing a baby you never met gets easier but it also doesn't. I can't explain it but I'm not a big pile of tears and mess sitting in the corner somewhere wasting my life away but at the same time, I walk around everyday with a small piece of me that feels lost and sad. There are times where I still think about where I would be at if I were still pregnant. What I would know by now, like the gender, maybe the name, what our nursery would look like. I won't lie to you, it makes me sad. I see other pregnant women and it hurts. I see babies and I feel a yearning in my stomach for the baby I lost.
A few things I've learned along the way after losing my little "Fry" (which is what Dave and I called her for the brief time we had her, and side note for the sake of not having to do him/her this whole post, let's just say her since technically all babies are female until the sack drops to determine gender):
1. Just because I didn't announce my pregnancy doesn't mean that I'm going to hide my miscarriage. I'm glad I didn't tell the world that Fry existed before we lost her because then I was able to tell people I lost her on my own terms. There were no awkward "oh hey how's the baby doing in there" and whatnot.
I had an argument with an in law a bit back and he tried to throw in my face that since my miscarriage was posted on Facebook (not by me by the way) that it was appropriate to discuss it in a public and very embarrassing setting. Long story short, he was trying to make fun of me hanging out with little ones as a sign of being pregnant again, less than 4 weeks after I had lost Fry. When I called him out on it, he claimed he was justified since I clearly was asking for it by making it public. For starters, he's an a-hole, but more over, I don't mind people knowing I lost my baby and I feel like I need to share that. It's okay to talk about it, and it's okay that the world knows, I just expect people to be respectful of my feelings.
I bring this up because a co-worker (who works in a different department) asked me when I was going to try and have children. He said he knew that I was going to try after I completed my bachelors degree and wanted to know why there were no babies yet. I told him that I was pregnant and had lost my baby in July. He got very quiet and looked like he was going to cry. He said I'm sorry I don't know what to say, I'm so embarrassed. And that's the thing, he should't have been. I wasn't and it was kind of him to care enough to ask about my life. Some of you may disagree with me, but I feel like I would do a disservice to Fry if I didn't tell people about her. We don't hide memories of loved ones we've lost or pets, so why should we for babies we've never met?
2. You think after getting over the miscarriage and waiting for your period to arrive that getting pregnant again would be easy...you already did it once, right? Well no, it's not easy.
3. I don't know if it's just me, but no one tells you about the weight you gain after a miscarriage. Four pounds. Now that may not seem like a lot to you but that four pounds just put me in the "my pants are too tight, all I want to wear are leggings" category.
4. After I lost Fry, I felt like everyone around me was either pregnant or had a baby. That wasn't the case but in fairness, I had to shop for four different baby showers in the past three months. Do you want to know how many I've had to in the past 28 years prior? Maybe four. Thank you Murphy's Law?
5. I'm dreading February 6th. Is it a day I'll ever be okay with again? How am I going to be on that day? Something tells me I'm going to have to curl up that day with a good book and a lot of cupcakes.
6. Does anyone else really talk about the aftermath of a miscarriage? I feel like I read a lot about the moment it happens but nothing else after. Luckily, I've got Ashley to talk to about this and commiserate with, but where's all the blog posts about the aftermath? If you have one, please share it in the comments section below, Sharing stories may be therapeutic for everyone.