I don’t want this blog to become solely about our miscarriages and subsequent journey to parenthood (fingers crossed, touch wood, wish on a star, do some kind of baby version of a rain dance). But for now, that’s kind of our life.
So in a slightly more philosophical (and hopefully less sad vein) here are a few things I’ve learned from our journey so far
You’re not alone
The pain and the sadness and the fact that, at the end of the day, it’s your body in pain and your mouth they’re putting tablets in, and your veins they’re sticking needles in; can mean you feel incredibly lonely. Even the best partners in the world (and mine is awesome) can’t take that Eeyore style black cloud of isolation from you completely. I just want to tell you that you’re not on your own.
I was overwhelmed by the messages I received after we published our first heartbreaking post. Women I haven’t spoken to in up to 13 years were messaging me to let me know they’d been through it. It was like a post-battle debrief where we shared our war stories, talked about our wounds and scars, and gave each other hope to get back out there and keep fighting. These women are warriors, and my new heroes. A great blog to read is Charlie O’Brien’s, who is now a parent but had her own challenges getting there.
People will disappoint you…
Sadly, some people in your life will disappoint you. They’ll ask tactless and painful questions, throw clichés at you, ignore that anything has happened or (worst of all) try to be part of your pain, never understanding that you’re not suffering it willingly and it’s not theirs to ‘own’. It’s easy to lose your rag but remember that however it comes out, very few (if any) of these people intend to hurt you. Their words are well intended and come from kind places. Nonetheless, if they get too much, take a break and a deep breath and do what’s right for you and your partner.
…But they’ll surprise you too
The smallest and silliest things will pick you up on your worst days. My aunt, uncle and cousins sent a giant bag of M&S chocolate which arrived a day or so after getting back from holiday (and crashing even further back down to earth). The chocolate itself (while yummy) wasn’t a magic cure, but the reminder that so many friends and family were thinking of us and doing what they could to care for us made a whole world of difference.
Give yourself a break
You’ll have a string of good days and then, out of nowhere, you’ll have a day when the tears/anger return with a vengeance. From what I gather, this is normal. Your brain will take time to process the loss you’ve suffered and while healing does begin relatively quickly, it’s not an immediate outcome. In the meantime, don’t be too hard on yourself. If, like me, you’re used to giving 110% in everything you do, drop down to 80% instead. Everyone else will still think you’re doing a great job, and you’ll give yourself a bit more energy and thinking space.
You can still be you
Guilt is a terrible thing. It eats away at us at the worst times. My inner monologue over the last couple of months is not a show I’d buy tickets to – it goes along the lines of “It’s my fault”, “I’m broken”, “He should leave me”, “I just laughed – what must people think?”, “I got drunk last night. I don’t deserve to be a parent anyway”.
Unfortunately there isn’t an off switch for this guilt, but you can try to counter it with more positive thoughts and behaviours. Getting back to ‘normal’ life is not only allowed, it’s encouraged. Go out with your friends, laugh with your partner, smile when your pet does something weird and funny. And Stop. Feeling. Guilty. Like so many things, your loss was out of your control. You won’t forget it but you can move on – worrying about the whys and wherefores won’t do anything except cause more hurt and distress at this point.
Don’t put life on hold
My biggest challenge as we move into what I’ve affectionately named ‘phase two’ of our recovery, is living our life without planning around a hypothetical pregnancy. The thing is, whether this month, next month, in a year or in two; the world knows we’re ‘trying’ now (urrrgh, hate that phrase). That means that every night out when I don’t drink, every event we leave early because I’m tired, every baggy top I wear (!) starts the rumour mill. And it reflects on your own feelings too – “What to do for that birthday/Christmas/catch up with friends?” “Maybe we shouldn’t plan the all day drinks – what if we’re pregnant?” “Let’s not book that holiday, I might be pregnant”.
You know what? That’s an impossible way to live. Do what you and your partner want to do. Book your holidays (that’s what insurance is for), plan your nights out (you can always change / move plans) and live for the now. Who knows what’s happening tomorrow.
Fight the good fight
And finally, fight the right fight for you. For us, after ‘only’ two losses, that’s meant giving up battling healthcare professionals, and instead using our energy to take care of ourselves. For others, regardless of their experience, fighting is what helps them survive it all. You have to do what you both feel is right. Don’t be led by doctors who tell you no, or by family who push you to keep battling on. Fall back on your experience, your feelings as a couple, and do what you need to heal and find your smiles again.
In the meantime, here’s a song that’s struck a chord with me in the last couple of months (click on the pic below).