Transparency Moment #1

Originally written for The Spiritual Haven on February 7th, 2020.

Trigger warning- miscarriage.

I am writing to release. I decided to share because I know I’m not the only person in the world that feels how I feel.

Yesterday made one year since I had a miscarriage. And it was rainy and gloomy outside. And I was fucking sad. I thought I was healed. I pushed it to the back of my head, used humor as a coping mechanism but today made me realize, I’m not over it. I don’t know when or if I’ll ever be. I couldn’t figure out why my energy was so low yesterday or why I couldn't gather myself to get caught up on readings. So I looked at the date and realized what yesterday was.

I remember finding out I was pregnant just a couple days before it happened. I, for whatever reason, knew that that pregnancy wasn’t going to have the happy ending I so desperately wanted. It sounds crazy to say but I just knew, and even with knowing I couldn’t prepare myself for the pain to follow. I began miscarrying at work even though I was still hopeful that it wasn’t that. I was fighting with myself internally. Part of me wanted to believe that the baby was okay and this was just some weird pregnancy symptom. Part of me knew the baby was gone and I just didn’t want to accept that. You’d think I’d be over it right? I got pregnant again and gave birth to a healthy baby boy. So I got it back? Right. Right? No.

Honestly, I feel like what did I do wrong with that one? Was this some type of karma? What was wrong with me? I questioned my God. I didn’t know that you could be so hurt by something and it happened so fast. I didn’t even get out of the shocked phase of being pregnant before it happened. I couldn't process. I get the whole 'everything happens for a reason or as it should' thing but in my Cardi B voice: what was the reason?!

I thought my pain would be cured and end after not having to see the blood or after drinking until my heart was content. Nothing numbed it until I locked it away and tried to detach myself from it. But like novacane, that numbing sensation wears off after a time. One of the first steps in healing for me is purging and being open, so that's what I'm attempting to do now. I have to deal with this and I don’t even know how. I still feel that empty space. I keep thinking about the “what if’s.”

Let me say this: It's disheartening to hear “Just have another one.” “It wasn’t the right time.” “Well, at least it happened early.” “At least you know you can get pregnant.” “You had another baby, you should be over it.” I am so thankful for the two children I have, God knows I am. I look at them a