Today is the first day of one of my many new beginnings. This past month has been difficult. The miscarriage took more of a toll on me than I expected. I think because in my life everything looks good on paper, and because I can't find any tangible thing to complain about, I feel confused when I'm sad. Because intellectually, I'm happy. I have an amazing daughter. A husband so good I couldn't possibly deserve him. Wonderful family and friends. Money is tight, but then again, we can pay the bills, and I know what a big deal that is right now. I should be happy. And, most of the time, I am.
But, then there's the sadness. No matter how much I am enjoying playing with Charlotte or laughing with Chris, there is this sadness permeating my thoughts. It can strike at any time, seemingly out of nowhere. It causes me to react with bitterness and jealousy to situations I would otherwise be celebrating, like, of course, pregnancies, ultrasounds, and births.
I think more than anything else, my inability to see a post about morning sickness or view a picture of a positive pregnancy test without going to a very dark place is most troubling. The first couple weeks, I cut myself some slack. But, now that I am still finding myself terrified to turn on the computer lest I be affronted with more pregnancy news, I am starting to wonder how long this will last. I don't like this side of me. It feels...weak and immature. It made more sense before I had Charlotte, when I didn't know if I would ever be a parent, to react like this. I assumed it would be different this time around.
A few weeks ago I had a follow up appointment with my OB to make sure my body is healing properly from the miscarriage. Seeing the ultrasound machine set up in the exam room, and knowing there wasn't even the slightest bit of hope that I would see that elusive flickering heartbeat on the screen was disheartening, to say the least. But, the hardest part of that day was when I was in my private room waiting for the doctor, and I realized that the muted thumping I was hearing was a fetal heart monitor from another room. A sound that would have faded into the background had I been in that room under different circumstances, was deafening to me now. I couldn't stop hearing it, and I couldn't stop thinking about how we would never hear this baby's heartbeat. This baby was already gone from my body, not a part of me anymore. And, I just couldn't hear it. So, I covered my ears like a petulant child being scolded until I heard the doctor knock on the door.
So, it's been hard. And the sadness has been keeping me from living my life the way I normally do. I've been falling WAY behind on housework, eating too much, drinking too much, practically disappearing from social media (I know, what a tragedy,)and all but abandoning my already-neglected blog.
And that is why today is my new beginning. Maybe I'm starting to feel better, maybe I just realized enough is enough; I don't really know. But, today is the day I have decided will be the beginning of my return to normalcy. I've resolved to update my blog once a week. I would love to do more, but that just doesn't seem possible right now. Especially since I am still hoping to do some other types of writing. Today I will eat my vegetables and flaxseed and leave the cookies in the cupboard. Today I have already cleaned and done laundry, thus starting the process of getting our apartment clean again. Today I am a little better than yesterday and a lot better than I was a month ago.
This isn't the first time I've cut my losses and decided to begin again, and I'm sure it won't be the last. Here's hoping I can make it work.
Dusting off the cobwebs
7 years ago
This was a great blog Megan. Just because you have so much in life that is good, doesn't mean you can never be sad. Your loss was significant and should be recognized as such. You deserved your time to grieve, let any diet or exercise go out the window, let yourself have one extra glass of wine, and let the laundry pile up...but not forever. So this is your turn around, and things are only gonna look up from here! You're such a strong person, and a great writer! So I'm looking forward to reading you weekly.
ReplyDeleteHi Megan,
ReplyDeleteI can tell you from my experience, that all those actions, thoughts and behaviours ARE normal. With time, I've noticed that things do get a little bit better, but I haven't stopped grieving, not in the least. Not a day goes by that I don't think of our angel and wonder what would have been if... It's been approx. 6 months for me, and I still cross the street when I see a stroller coming.
It's hard to get "back" to our new normal, as it'll never be the same again. I applaud your new beginning, but feel free to give yourself a break. Perhaps, you might consider not jumping back to your new normal, but maybe consider taking small steps - do one or two "normal" things per day. That way, on a particularly bad day, you won't feel even worse for failing to do this or that. For me, it was weeks before I could even go out for a walk, or think about the house or groceries. I literally started with my one item - today I'll cook dinner, tomorrow I'll try to do laundry and so on.
Give yourself some time and take good care of YOU right now. Also, feel free to lean on others and ask for help with housecleaning or chores. I think that those around you would be happy to help, things would get done, and you wouldn't feel so far behind.
Just suggestions, things to consider my friend. Wish I could give you a HUGE hug - you've been so good to me!!!
Don't diminish your own grief. No matter what the "rest" of your life looks like on paper, you are allowed to grieve. Whatever form that takes.
ReplyDeleteI hope that doing "normal" things will help you--but not because you need to snap out of it, but because everyone needs those small pebbles to help make a path through grief.
@Allison- I had told Chris that I was feeling guilty for slacking in so many departments, and he helped me to see that maybe I needed that. He kept saying that however I handled this, however long it took, WAS normal, for me, and that was okay. So, at some point I just embraced it and let myself wallow, knowing that there would be an expiration date. Which I guess is now. Not that I'll be totally back to normal, but at least in a better place.
ReplyDelete@Joanna- Thanks for the suggestions. I will try not to expect too much of myself and to take things slowly. And, you're right; I do have all the help I need around the house thanks to my husband. He has picked up so much slack and is sweet enough to pretend that he doesn't notice. So, I will lean on him if I need to. :)
ReplyDeleteThanks for your kind words. I hope you are doing well tonight!
@Ginger- Thank you. Sometimes it's just so hard to let myself wallow when I put things in perspective and see how good I have it compared to other people's problems. I need to remind myself that no matter what I have, I did suffer a loss, and I am allowed to mourn it. I think with a lot of support and encouragement from you guys and my friends and family, I have learned to let myself do that.
ReplyDeleteThat broke my heart, Megan, picturing you sitting in that room with your hands on your ears. My poor, poor baby. We all love you and want you to feel better, however long that takes.....
ReplyDeleteThanks, Mom. I love you, too. :)
ReplyDeleteMegs,
ReplyDeleteThis was poignant and beautiful. I'm glad you are feeling well enough to share. I know how hard this must be for you and please know, I'm here for you whenever you need.
I especially liked the mention of feeling weak. I understand that feeling completely.
Lots of love, beautiful writing.
Hooray for new beginnings! Just don't cut your own hair.
ReplyDeleteAnd - I'm coming back every week for my weekly blog post. I, for one, have missed you on social media.
Thanks, Ry. I appreciate that.
ReplyDelete@Clara- Well, it is good to know I've been missed!
ReplyDeleteAnd, I was actually considering cutting my hair. Or, rather, having it cut. I promise not to do it myself. :)