Hide and pretend you are not changed

I have written before about how this journey has changed me and of course the miscarriage profoundly changed me.  I have been broken like I never thought possible.  I have also been mended by a loving God.  I however bare scars like many other women who have gone and are going through this process.  I was sitting in a room filled with women the other day and I wondered who had the same scars. In real life you don't talk about infertility you don't talk about miscarriage but statistically I know that room had more that a few women who have been through or going through what I have.

We keep silent in our grief.  We are scared, we are fearful, we can't face the stupid questions, comments or unsolicited advice. Some people mean well, others ignorant, and others just plain mean. We have been through enough. Like someone who has been through a war and comes back and doesn't speak of it.  They know that no one can understand because they haven't been there themselves. It is easier to not talk about it.

I share with my friends and family, but they don't really know. There is a disconnect. So all you can do is pray and pour it out to God, get comfort when you can and wrestle with it in your heart and mind. Alone. You get good at hiding your scars and pretending you are fine.  You do this countless times a day. Everytime you see  a pregnancy announcement on facebook, see a pregnant woman at the store, see pictures of your friends kids, or get that baby shower invite in the mail.  There is an endless persistent need to hide and to pretend. And you do, until something or someone sets you over the edge and then you either lash out or more commonly find a quiet place to cry.  I prefer the quiet place to cry. An you cry and sob for a time, then you brush the tears away and know it won't be the last time.

I know that this doesn't exactly show the "joy" in my journey right now, but it is my truth. For this season anyways. 

Healing

I am on the road to healing. Physically it has been a bit harder than I thought.  Still waiting to see what my body is actually doing.  The baby is gone but my body doesn't always act like it. Other days I feel completely disconnected from my own body.

Emotionally it has been WAY harder than I thought. I cry every day. I see a pregnant woman and I ask think " why did her baby live and mine die?".  It isn't a thought I am proud of but it is honest. I am avoiding other people in fear they will ask some stupid question. Although it get's a bit easier everyday I feel far from "normal". I think my favorite writer C.S Lewis sums it up best for me...

“No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear. I am not afraid, but the sensation is like being afraid. The same fluttering in the stomach, the same restlessness, the yawning. I keep on swallowing.

At other times it feels like being mildly drunk, or concussed. There is a sort of invisible blanket between the world and me. I find it hard to take in what anyone says. Or perhaps, hard to want to take it in. It is so uninteresting. Yet I want the others to be about me. I dread the moments when the house is empty. If only they would talk to one another and not to me.”
― C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

I know the best thing I can do is press forward.  I can still grieve and move.  So I decided to see an acupuncturist.  DH and I had decided to do this before my next medicated cycle but the time seems right to go ahead.  Maybe it will help my body and my mind heal and prepare for whatever is next.  It certainly can't hurt at this point.  We also started back on our eating plan.  I only gained a pound or two, which is actually remarkable.  I just want to keep pressing on maybe if my body will do it my heart will catch up.  

Glory Baby

 

Glory Baby by Watermark Glory Baby, You slipped away As fast as we could say baby, baby You were growing, what happened Dear, You disappeared on us baby, baby Heaven will hold you before we do Heaven will keep you safe Until we're home with you Until we're home with you   We miss you everyday, miss you in every way But we know there's a day when we will hold you, we will hold you And you'll kiss our tears away, when we're home to stay *We can't wait for the day when we will see you, we will see you But baby let sweet Jesus hold you, until mom and dad can hold you* You'll just have heaven before we do You'll just have heaven before we do Sweet little baby, it's hard to understand it Cause we are hurting, we are hurting But there is healing, and we know we're stronger people Through the growing, and in knowing All things work together for our good And God works his purposes Just like he said he would, just like he said he would   I can't imagine Heaven's lullabies And what they must sound like But I will rest in knowing Heaven is your home And it's all you'll ever know, all you'll ever know

6 Weeks 3 Days

My pregnancy officially ended at 6 weeks and 3 days.  Last night I cried for my Angel baby.  I am forever changed by this. I will never forget.  I want to move on so badly, but I know I have to grieve as well. I never imagined that this would be part of the journey. I don't understand why. I never will. I trust God, but I also have a lot of questions to ask Him. Anger. Sadness. Fear. It is at times suffocating. My family and friends are of course empathetic and supportive, but they don't understand. I feel so alone in this.

How very softly you tiptoed into our world, almost silently, only a moment you stayed. But what an imprint you footsteps have left upon our hearts.
- Dorothy Ferguson