“I wish it need not have happened in my time,’ said Frodo. ‘So do I,’ said Gandalf, ‘and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”-Frodo Baggins and Gandalf, The Fellowship of the Ring
Today was a bad day.
I have had a few precious souls tell me that I should ‘move on’ from what has happened. (These are the same people who tell you “don’t stress” like it’s some fucking light switch you can just turn off! Ok Karen, I’ll just not stress shall I?) .
I am frequently plagued by two things these days:
- Why me?
- What’s next?
“Why me ?” refers to the fact that I am in the lucky 1% of women who has had recurrent miscarriages. Yay! What’s my prize?…. PTSD, anxiety, self loathing and permanent damage you say? HELL YEAH! I’m sure there are so many out there who have read my journey and thought…
“Phew…. at least that’s not me”
Well. I am so stoked to take one for the team. Don’t worry guys… I got your 1% covered right here.
I’m sorry. Sarcasm and general bitterness is part of this journey. For those who share it… you get me. For those who don’t … this is the monster that I have become. As previously said in one of my last blog posts…. I constantly worry about being pessimistic and ‘negative’ and worry that people hate me for it. Well…. I said I was going to be open and honest and truthful about this journey and I am sorry to say that days like this and emotions and feelings like this are part of it. In fact they are a huge chunk.
I read an article today that stated that miscarriage takes longer for people to recover from than previously thought. Maybe it’s just because we are being more open and honest about how shit this all is instead of being pushed to ‘move on’ and smile and pretend that we aren’t all broken and empty of self worth.
It makes me feel funny to hear people say “you are so brave” and “you are so strong” and “you’re coping so well”. Maybe posting something like this will make people realise that I am not. I am human and for every strong day I have a day like today.
A day where I look in the mirror and nearly cry at the overweight, unfit and disgusting version of myself I see.
A day where all my clothing feels useless because none of it looks good and no amount of makeup is going to hide 2019’s 15+ kilos I put on and the shame that is attached to who I am physically.
A day where I struggled at work to even get through the day because I was plagued by anxiety, thoughts of things getting worse than they are (if that’s even possible to imagine!) and where I had so much brain fog that I felt completely useless at my job.
A day where I couldn’t decide what to eat because I’d just rather not and save another kilo.
A day where I came home, lay on the couch and just watched TV and felt horrible for it.
A day where I couldn’t bring myself to exercise because it was too hot and I simply felt like wallowing in my own misery.
I feel angry.
Angry that the ONE opportunity for pregnancy and having a child being a magical, happy experience has been cruelly ripped away from me. You see, once you have experienced loss after loss after loss and you have no more trust for your body, any subsequent pregnancy is minefield of anxiety and triggers and post traumatic stress disorder.
I will NEVER have that experience that people who get pregnant and have a viable and healthy pregnancy first time have.
Even if you’re not pregnant, you just expect to go to the bathroom and see bleeding. Multiple times a day.
I can’t focus. I can’t concentrate on days like today. My brain is at war with itself constantly and there is nothing me, or anyone else can do to stop it.
I wish this never happened in my time.
I wish it never happened to me.
I wish it was just me suffering, but my husband is to…. that’s what you get for marrying me! #boobyprize
I constantly think about how if it was someone else, he would have a family by now instead of a broken, shaky chihuahua (in a bull dogs body) for a wife.
I lost a whole year and I am angry. I feel like things can’t get worse… but then again… I tried to tell myself that last year and things didn’t really give me hope.
I wish I had more hope. Some days, it is there.. flickering moments. Other days, it is far away in the fires of Mount Doom where I will never find it.
I feel like the next cruel joke will be that I carry a pregnancy and find out that there is huge chromosomal issues at Week 10 when you have the optional NIPT blood test and be faced with terminating the one viable pregnancy we get. Or, one of the many other “it will never happen to me because the odds are so low” issues with pregnancy and birth.
For those who don’t know what the NIPT test is: https://www.vcgs.org.au/tests/perceptnipt
I don’t consider myself special and refuse to think that this whole process has been bestowed on us because we are somehow special people and need to show people just how well you can cope with suffering that ONE PERCENT of people actually have to deal with.
Maybe my story (and the stories of the rest of us 1 percenters) just provides relief to those who never have to walk these roads.
I am sorry for this being so negative. But I can’t paint a rainbow where there isn’t any light and I refuse to lie about days like today when they do happen.
As Gandalf says:
I am trying.
But some times, some days…. even when you win… you lose.