I don’t often find myself avoiding and procrastinating on doing things I love most. In this case, I mean writing. However, it has taken me nearly 2 weeks to get up the courage and face reality on this one, and I think that’s okay. I am beginning to accept that some situations will just be much harder than others and I won’t always deal with the hard ones head-on.
I never thought I’d say that in my life. I never imagined what peeing on a stick felt like or looked like until I began my TTC journey. Anyone with me on this one? Seems like such a strange concept, but your conception journey often time relies upon this act. I’m not only talking about pregnancy tests, either…
“TMI” and “too personal” don’t exist around here, clearly. My pregnancy loss has taught me to be open about my experiences and let you all in on it (no matter how personal or embarrassing it might be). I’ve had some friends recently that have gotten off birth control, or plan to soon, and have asked me what it’s like; what happens to your mind and body when you do make such a drastic hormonal change? I am no expert, or doctor by any means, but I can share my experience.
Sometimes we can’t help but throw ourselves a pity party when times get tough. I’ll totally admit that I love a good pity party here and there. During these times, I typically like to be alone and let myself feel sorry. However, very recently, I have changed my way of thinking and way of [pity] partying.
Loss is something everyone faces several times in their life; loss of a relative or close friend, loss of a pet, loss of a material object(s) that had meaning of some sort or just any type of loss that has been a part of you in some way shape or form is one of the most difficult things to endure. I am not only talking loss related to death, but even loss of experience or opportunity. I’ve had to experience loss more times than I can even count in my short 27 years of life. Even with faith and positivity, I oftentimes wonder how much more loss I can possibly take.
There’s nothing worse for me than a new month starting. Each time we come to a new month, it’s just a reminder about what my life would have been like if I hadn’t experienced my pregnancy loss. It brings me to a place outside of my current reality that is filled with excitement and curiosity. It’s like a rubber band snaps against my skin to bring me back to reality and remind me of the sadness and disappointment I faced. It never fails. Every. Month.
Our TWW (two week wait) is over and we have answers. It wasn’t so bad…the waiting part that is. I found so much to keep myself busy with, including some unfortunate family events. But, now there’s that lingering question that I wake up to every day…”what next?”
It’s funny how life throws you some unique (or maybe not so unique) opportunities to change your perspective, force you to grow in your mindset, and even become more open-minded to things you never thought possible. When I say “it’s funny,” I really mean “it’s mind blowing.” Think about the last time you heard, watched, or did something that made your jaw drop. It’s because you were taken aback in one way or another, right?
I truly have never met a soul that enjoys waiting. It’s only human nature to want your needs (or wants) to be met immediately; to be met the exact moment you want them. However, this game we all embark in, called life, is filled with waiting. Being forced to wait is a good thing for us, though. It keeps us grounded, builds our patience, and encourages us to plant our feet a little more…at least I think. Whether your waiting game is based on your delivery man, a Black Friday deal, an offer on a new house, or within a TTC journey, it brings forward the potential for so many emotions.
It’s so easy to forget that pregnancy loss impacts more than just the person that was physically pregnant. I thought it would only be fair to give y’all my husband’s perspective on pregnancy loss. Let’s be honest here, he might have had one of the most difficult jobs of all: saying all the right things, doing all the right actions, supporting my mental/emotional state 100% of the time, AND grieving the loss of his own child. SIMULTANEOUSLY.