I should be meeting Dale at my first doctor appointment this morning but I’m not. We should be hearing our baby’s heartbeat for the first time but it’s not beating anymore.
My uterus should be expanding with new life but instead it’s empty. Two weeks ago I was worried I was showing too much already. Now my belly is just soft with no precious cargo inside.
One minute I’m fine and the next I want to disappear into the pain. I thought I’d escaped becoming a member of this awful club that no one ever wants to join.
They don’t tell you that having a miscarriage is a process. It’s not an event that happens suddenly and then is over. It’s a multi-day, week, and sometimes month long process to lose the life that was forming inside you. And that timeframe doesn’t account for the waves of grief that crest and fall as time moves forward without your baby.
A week ago I left the hospital scared but hopeful. Our baby had a heartbeat and my bleeding had stopped. Less than an hour later that hope was ripped away from us.
I’m tempted to abandon my faith but also motivated to lean into it. To hold onto the peace and trust I experienced prior to this unexplainable loss.
I believe it will get better. I’m trying to show up to life alongside the pain.
As cliche as it sounds, right now it really is one day, sometimes one hour, at a time. We don't like to talk about miscarriages or the hard parts of conceiving, fertility, pregnancy etc. So this is me, trying to talk and make sense of the hard stuff along side all of the good.
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