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I’m a word person. When I think about past events, I see words. Words that describe the situation. Words that describe my feelings. Words that I said. Words that I heard.
But there are times when numbers play a key role. Usually, with dates.
Have you ever experienced that? When you try so hard to move past something and suddenly, the you see the date on the calendar and all sorts of memories come rushing back?
October 7. It was a happy day for me last year. I woke up, excited to go for an ultrasound appointment. I brought my, then three year old with me, so she could get the first glimpse of her baby brother or sister. She even got to see the heart beating on the screen. We spent the entire drive home discussing baby names.
I never thought that the glimpse would be the last.
Less than 48 hours later, I began miscarrying.
We later learned that the cause of the miscarriage was due to my thyroid disorders. Having an (almost) definite cause was helpful in moving past it. But, I always felt as if it was my fault. It was my body that messed up. It was my body that miscarried. It was my body that couldn’t even do that correctly (I had to have a D&C after I failed to progress normally in the miscarriage).
I think those thoughts are normal. Most women who have been through the same thing had the same thoughts. Knowing that doesn’t make it any easier though.
I truly thought I was past this. But, I guess I never really will be. I sometimes go a little bit without thinking about what I’ve lost. Then, something reminds me. Today, it was the date.
Some people thought I should’ve kept the pregnancy from my daughter. I did understand their point. She is young and would’t be able to understand if something would go wrong. Well, something did go wrong. And surprisingly, she did understand it. I am so thankful that I had her support during that time. Truthfully, it was the only thing that kept me going.
Just a few weeks ago, I overheard her praying about her baby brother or sister. Children are incredible.
I want to ask that if you know of anyone who’s suffered a miscarriage, remember them. Remember their baby. Be there with them. Not just right after. Think about them a year after. Or even a few years after. Let them know that they are on your mind. Nothing is worse than feeling as if you are alone in your feelings. And, if there is anyone struggling with this on their own, feel free to message me.