It's interesting what grief will do to a person. And, how each person deals with it so differently. Without realizing it, I've slowly been working my way through the seven stages of grief. I know there will still be some setbacks, like today (when I had to explain to my back doctor that my increased back pain was due to my recent miscarriage). But overall, I am feeling SO. MUCH. BETTER.
Thank you to everyone for your kind words and support. I haven't had a chance to answer each of you personally - it's tough and I tend to hole myself up when the emotions get too overwhelming, but know that I appreciate it and thank you all from the bottom of my heart.
In no particular order (other than alphabetical)... :)
- Acceptance. As I said before, I know that things are for the best and this was Nature's way of taking care of a little baby who wouldn't have been able to survive on his own in our harsh world. I've come to terms with the fact that I accidentally (wonderfully!) got pregnant, and that unfortunately, it didn't work out. And, amazingly enough, when I am not pulled down by the depression, I actually look brightly toward the future. And wistfully dream about the next little baby to add to our family. Thinking about getting pregnant again tells me I've hit acceptance. And I'm ready for whatever comes next.
- Anger. I don't think I've felt particularly angry. Sad, yes. Devastated, absolutely. But not angry. I've read that in natural death, anger is not as severe (as in cases where the death could have been prevented). But, if there was any twinge of anger, it was that Jon didn't seem as affected by the loss as I was. I found out, however, the loss did hurt him too. Appearances are everything, and if there's one thing I've learned, it's that everyone grieves and shows their feelings in oh so different ways!
- Denial. I started this one LONG before I ever miscarried. I was in denial that I was even pregnant! :) This can't be happening to me, I thought. I can't possibly be pregnant. And then, I miscarried. And again, all I thought was, this can't be happening to me. I can't possibly be having a miscarriage. It was so surreal. I would (and still do) sometimes conveniently "forget" I was ever pregnant or ever miscarried. Talk about a bad dream.
- Depression. The biggie. The sadness I have felt from this loss is overwhelming. And, I have felt hopeless to boot. As soon as I started bleeding, immediately, I felt empty inside. I literally felt like I was dying. A part of me was dying. And, altho I am doing much better now, I'm not quite sure I have dug myself out of this dark hole just yet. Because, I find myself still trying to fill the emptiness inside. With words (especially when I cannot sleep late at night). With distracting errands and activities throughout the day since I cannot concentrate on anything else. With food. Food has actually been the biggest symptom that tells me I'm not 100% better yet - since I have struggled every day so far, with what I am eating, what I am putting in my mouth. That, conscious or not, I am physically trying to fill the emptiness inside. And, I know this is definitely not good for my diet, not good for my weight loss goals. And yet, I don't really give a shit right now.
- Fear. What if this happens to us again? Will I be able to deal with another loss? Can I ever get pregnant again? Do I *want* to get pregnant again?
- Guilt. Was there anything I could have done differently, to prevent the miscarriage? Was it because I was on Aleve morning, noon and night? Was it because I let Logan climb on me like a jungle gym and use my belly as a stepping stool to push off of? Was it because of the many ultrasounds I had during PT? Was I exposed to too much scatter in the room, when I held Logan's hips down for his recent x-ray? But more than any of those things, what I feel most guilty about, is feeling better.
- Shock. I have been operating in a fog, sometimes efficiently, sometimes not. But, I'm coping regardless. And, I'm pretty sure any shrink would tell me the fog is protecting me from more serious mental problems or instability. That this is the way humans cope during a very devastating time. Whatever the explanation, I am still in shock. Yes. I am still in complete, utter, disbelief.
And so, there are many reasons why I write in this blog. But most of all, it's been very therapeutic. I can share my stories. I can record my stories. I can preserve my stories.
My OB actually apologized when he found out we were leaving for our vacation so shortly after the miscarriage. He told me this was no way to start out a big fun trip. I suppose one could look at it that way. However, I'm actually really looking forward to our trip. I'm looking forward to it more than I did before, if that is even possible. Because, as well as I feel like I am doing physically, mentally, emotionally, I still need to get away. I need to get as far away as possible. I need to get off the grid for a little bit.
I need to relax, smile, soak up the sunshine and laugh as Logan squishes sand between his toes. I need to enjoy our close friends' company. I need to rediscover my love with Jon.
I need to heal.
What better place, than New Zealand?