Last week was one of the most difficult for me yet, but since confronting my fears of coming face to face with P-SIL last Friday and dealing with the subsequent wave of emotions, amazingly, life has got a little easier.
I suspected that the thought of seeing P-SIL was more agonising in my imagination than in real life. It was slightly less bad than what I had anticipated, but it was a harrowing experience nonetheless. But I did it and lived to tell the tale. It didn’t kill me. I’m still here. For days afterwards, I expected a sudden whoosh of relief, self-recognition of the enormity of what I’d done, and none came…
…but Aunt Flo did — after being gone for almost 12 weeks. To be able to say It’s the first week of June, and I got my period for the first time this year is quite a trip… Knowing that my body is returning to normal, however slowly, has brought me such reassurance. I hadn’t fully appreciated how stressful it was to live not knowing what was going on. My post-miscarriage amenorrhea is nothing compared to living with infertility, but now I have an even deeper sympathy for people who have unexplained infertility or mysterious illness or are waiting for a diagnosis.
My doctor still wants me to keep my Tuesday morning ultrasound appointment; and I am looking forward to discussing yesterday’s thyroid blood test result with my primary care (GP) doctor Tuesday afternoon. Technically, we could start TTC again already, but I want to make sure my hypothyroidism is taken care of first.
I meant it when I wrote that I’ve started a new chapter in my reproductive story but now I’m beginning to notice positive changes. For example, it’s only in thinking and writing about this that I noticed that it’s a little after 2 o’clock and I’ve only now remembered that it’s Saturday, the day when I would have been another week farther along in my pregnancy. And I’m not sure if I would have been 22 or 23 weeks.
Yesterday, as I sat in the phlebotomist’s waiting room, a woman sat down opposite me. She was about 5-6 months pregnant, a little farther along than I would have been, and although I felt that familiar sad pang, it was the weakest it’s ever been. And this time I heard my voice say inside That’ll be me in 9 months’ time.
Today I look over at my thriving peace lily and think of my Bean. Fondly.
I’m so glad you’re looking to the future. It’s so easy to get sucked down with the pain of TTC and miscarriage, it’s a breath of fresh air when life gives you those moments where you think “I’m going to get there someday. I’m going to be OK.” I hope 2014 is the year for both of us :)
Yes! They ARE like a breath of fresh air, well said! May 2014 be the year we all meet our little ones x
This is a beautiful post Lauren. You sound so much like you are finding healing and peace and I remember those moments as the pain starts to lessen and the moving forward can begin. I am so happy for you that you are finding a way forward.
Thank you, Egg. It helps that I have buddies like you to cheer me on!
Lovely post. Glad to hear that you are moving forward. You are so right, there is no reason why you can’t be sitting with your bump very soon indeed. Good luck Lauren.
Thanks, Ana. You as well, friend!! I hope 2014 is the year we all meet our babies for the first time.
good to hear that the pain is subsiding. This week in clown class I learned that keeping things moving is essential when dealing with intense emotions. In the morning, we do a series of warm-ups involving short bursts of rage, despair, and anxiety interspersed with cooldown periods of walking around saying to ourselves, “it’s not such a big deal.” It took me a while to get used to the sudden switching back and forth, but I’ve learned that it is possible to set aside strong emotions after having expressed a dose for the day.
I’m fascinated to learn that clowning draws upon the experiences of difficult feelings, Blossoming! What a great exercise in optimism and faith and mindfulness! Have been meaning to call you but have had a busy week. Will try you soon. X