Life Is Good

There's something about going through something awful that can restore some of your faith in humanity. Since my miscarriage, I have been amazed at the outpouring of love and kindness people have shown me. Friends and family have reached out in so many ways. Some have just offered shoulders to cry on, others have offered to bring us meals or watch Noah so we can get a break. People have sent me songs and poems, and opened up about their own personal experiences with loss. I have felt very loved and supported, which is exactly what I needed.

I don’t know what exactly did it, but something switched on in me around Friday of last week. I went to work that day in a phenomenal mood. Despite having a rather difficult IEP meeting to attend at the end of the day, I felt really relaxed and happy. I tend to be a high anxiety type of person, but my edginess was absent. And so far, this new state of mind has now lasted an entire week. Part of it could be that the week-long headache I was plagued with finally subsided over the weekend. (I was becoming paranoid that it was literally killing me.) Part of it could be that my hormone levels are dropping off (beta=25 yesterday, yay!). And part of it could be that I really and truly love the Christmas season, especially with Noah around, which makes it nearly impossible to be depressed and mopey. But I think a lot of it has been all of the kindness I’ve been shown recently.

And with my new happier mood, I also have a renewed sense of optimism. I really believe that I will get another shot at carrying a baby to term. I am going to have to wait longer than I wanted to, and might have more unforeseen obstacles in my way, but I trust that it will happen. And when it does, it will only be that much sweeter. I’m also no longer afraid to find out what we lost. Whenever the chromosomal/genetic testing results come back (soon I hope, I’m getting impatient), I am fully ready to find out if we had a baby boy or girl. I think for me this will make the whole thing a little less abstract, and although that might bring up some harder feelings, I want to remember that I really was pregnant and I really was carrying a little life inside of me. It wasn’t just a dream or a little phase that I passed through. With a miscarriage you have nothing to show for what you had, so knowing more about our baby feels important to me. (Sorry if that doesn’t make sense. I can’t quite put it into words.)

Don’t get me wrong though. I am still very sad about what happened. It still stings to see pregnant bellies and hear pregnancy announcements. (Shut up already about Will and Kate! I don’t care!) I still haven’t mustered up the nerve to see any of my pregnant friends. It’s not that I think they won’t be sensitive to me, but I worry about other people’s innocent remarks upsetting me. Those people who don’t know what I’ve just gone through won’t realize that when they ask my friend how the pregnancy is going, it’s going to be like a punch to the gut for me. But, I am definitely doing a great job of keeping that sadness and emptiness in the very back of my mind. I refuse to waste another single moment of Noah’s childhood wallowing in self-pity. He’s going to be grown in the blink of an eye, and I don’t want to miss any of it!

So, I’ve decided that life really is good, if not great, even though shitty things happen sometimes. I really hope this mindset sticks around!