Three Lives of Me

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Life After Miscarriage

On Tuesday morning, I got up. Got dressed and ran my husband to work. After I dropped him off, I went grocery shopping.  It’s what I do on a typical Tuesday. But this day, I decided to make a couple extra stops. One, in particular, was to the Family Christian Bookstore. I’ve been doing a bible study at church and I noticed my best friend’s bible. I’ve been carrying my husband’s around for quite some time and thought it was time I get my own.

I went in for that sole purpose. As I entered, of course, I got distracted by all the sale items. But I told myself, before I pick anything else up I need to get what I came for. I ended up picking out this dark pink KJV bible with some cute imprints on the front and back and continued on to check out the rest of the store.

As I looked to the right, I saw my one of my favorite words – CLEARANCE. (Who doesn’t love clearance items?) So, naturally, I started to browse the clearance section. They had a few tables set out with some really nice items. Then I turned to this one table. I noticed it had an angel. When I initially walked through the door, one of the items that distracted me was an angel. I sat it back down with the intentions of going back to it. But in this area, I found one. The only one, actually.

As I got closer, I noticed she was holding a baby. And on her where the words, “God Bless This Beautiful Baby.” I picked her up and started to cry.

And not a couple of tears. Uncontrollable sobbing. For a few minutes. In the back of this store.

I took out my phone and texted my husband. “In the bible store crying,” I sent.  Then I sent him a picture. I’m not sure what I expected him to do. He couldn’t get to me if he wanted to, I had the car. But he did respond, “I miss him so much.”

This is life after a miscarriage.

I pulled myself together and shopped around a little more giving myself time to breathe. All while hoping my eyes weren’t bloodshot. And they were.

When I got to the car, I took another picture and posted it on my Instagram page. I almost didn’t post it. I hadn’t said a word about my miscarriage on social media, until then. I didn’t want to. But on Tuesday, I did.

I cried some more, sitting there in the parking lot.  Then I finished my errands and headed home. But before I did, I stopped at my son’s plot. And I sat that angel on his plaque. I said to him, “God wanted me to visit you today.”

Usually, I try to pretend. You know, shove the feelings down. I didn’t want the kids to see me like that. I didn’t want to worry them with it. But this time, I allowed myself to be sad. My younger girls, both asked me what was wrong. I told them, I was sad because I was missing Geofferson. I went on about the day, but not in my usual manner. I wasn’t trying to hide what I felt on that day. Not anymore.

It’s been a little over two months since I learned that I miscarried.

Of that time, I “officially” took three weeks to grieve. My husband took maybe about 4 days. And this wasn’t our first experience with miscarriage. But we were further along – we were in the second trimester. We thought everything was going as it should this time. And it wasn’t.

The pain is still so very fresh. There’s not a day that goes by that we don’t talk about trying again, not trying again. That we don’t ask ourselves what happened. That we don’t try and figure out how to prevent another one. That we don’t try to not talk about it.

That I don’t feel like a stranger in my own body.

That I’m not jealous of every baby bump or newborn baby I see.

Yet, through all of this, we’ve returned to our normal lives. Just a little less than who we were.  We go to work, raise our family and take care of our home the best we can.  We spend time with family and friends. We smile and even laugh. Thanking God for what we do have.

Almost everything is status quo.

Except for those unexpected moments. The bigger ones we can’t push down, no matter how hard we try. Where we’re cruising through a day, and something small hits us like a Mack truck. I don’t want to say reminding us of what we’ve lost, because we know every single minute of every day. But symbolizing it. Literally, materializing right in front of our very own eyes - the guilt, shame, fear, sadness and every other doubting emotion.  Everything we’ve been desperately trying to hide from the outside.

Miscarriages, while they happen and are considered to be normal, are not at all. They aren’t in the same category of accomplishing your daily tasks. It’s more like being a member of a secret society where the password is “what do I do now?”

I’m not sure if anyone has the answer to that question. I know I don’t. But, all I know to do is keep moving forward. There’s good days and there’s bad days. And that Tuesday is definitely in the top 5 of the worst days of losing my baby.  

The positive, though, is that it got me to share it. And that’s a start to something.