Making it Normal
Every woman's story of miscarriage is unique. There's no "right" way to feel, "right" way to react or "right" way to move forward.
Where I'm at right now, I have accepted what has happened.
I lost a baby. It happens to one in four pregnancies. It doesn't mean it will happen again.
My body is going back to normal, I cry and tear up less frequently, and though I sometimes still don't recognize the emotional creature in the mirror, I am trying to regain a sense of normal.
Here's where it gets hard. For me to continue to move forward, I need what has happened to become a part of my life, and to do that I need to be able to speak it freely. I need to be able to use phrases like "I was pregnant."
"I miscarried."
But society isn't set up for that. Society has set up such a cloaked, hushed community surrounding miscarriage that when I say something about it, no one knows how to react and instead they uncomfortably look away from me.
It's not their fault, I would probably do the same thing in that situation, but I would love to see it change.
Last night Jace and I were walking through Goodwill when an older woman stopped and was just taken with Jace. She cooed over how adorable he is, remarked on how happy he looked, and told me that he had just the cutest smile she'd ever seen.
She then studied my face for a moment and asked if I had a daughter.
The word caught in my throat for a minute before I could say, "No."
What I wanted to be able to say was that I don't know, that the baby I lost could be my daughter. But that's not how society works. We can't say that we lost a baby too small to know the gender.
The encounter ended there, she waved bye to the toddler that was playing shy and half hiding behind me and Jace and I headed to the register.
It just seems to me that if we were to create a society that would allow us to own that part of our life, say what happened as if we were sharing other sad news, it would be easier for mom's who miscarry to move forward.
Where I'm at right now, I have accepted what has happened.
I lost a baby. It happens to one in four pregnancies. It doesn't mean it will happen again.
My body is going back to normal, I cry and tear up less frequently, and though I sometimes still don't recognize the emotional creature in the mirror, I am trying to regain a sense of normal.
Here's where it gets hard. For me to continue to move forward, I need what has happened to become a part of my life, and to do that I need to be able to speak it freely. I need to be able to use phrases like "I was pregnant."
"I miscarried."
But society isn't set up for that. Society has set up such a cloaked, hushed community surrounding miscarriage that when I say something about it, no one knows how to react and instead they uncomfortably look away from me.
It's not their fault, I would probably do the same thing in that situation, but I would love to see it change.
Last night Jace and I were walking through Goodwill when an older woman stopped and was just taken with Jace. She cooed over how adorable he is, remarked on how happy he looked, and told me that he had just the cutest smile she'd ever seen.
She then studied my face for a moment and asked if I had a daughter.
The word caught in my throat for a minute before I could say, "No."
What I wanted to be able to say was that I don't know, that the baby I lost could be my daughter. But that's not how society works. We can't say that we lost a baby too small to know the gender.
The encounter ended there, she waved bye to the toddler that was playing shy and half hiding behind me and Jace and I headed to the register.
It just seems to me that if we were to create a society that would allow us to own that part of our life, say what happened as if we were sharing other sad news, it would be easier for mom's who miscarry to move forward.
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