Shame, guilt & what happened in the fall of 2019 (+ the one good thing to come from of it)
There was a point in the fall of 2019 we were convinced we had an early miscarriage.
My time of the month was uncharacteristically early, I wasn't feeling well and it was just a weird/different period all around. Of course I leaned on the internet (not a good idea) to tell me what was going on. I also chatted with a friend who is a genius pharmacist with a doctor for a husband. They thought perhaps it was possible I was having a #chemicalpregnancy, which is an early pregnancy loss that occurs shortly after implantation.
We didn't know for sure. There was no way to know. But it still stung and hurt. At the same time, it also gave us a little hope.
At least we could get pregnant.
We never went to the doctor. There was no way to confirm we were, in fact, pregnant. Maybe it was a cry of desperation–maybe we were trying to convince ourselves. I don't know. What I do know is that we grieved what we thought we had lost. What we wanted more than anything in the entire universe.
We informed our closest friends and family because we needed their support. We grieved side by side and we grieved separately. I cried so hard in the shower one afternoon that I couldn't tell the difference between the water hitting my body and the tears streaming down my face.
Brian stepped in the shower fully clothed and picked up my shaking, cold, trembling shell off the shower floor and carried me to bed.
This is a period of time I don't like to think about or talk about–now that we know what we know.
There is a #guilt I carry around for grieving something that likely didn't even happen in the first place. There is a #shame I carry around for telling our friends and family we suffered a miscarriage when we likely didn't.
Do I need to explain myself to them? Apologize? Pretend the weeks of sadness didn't happen? I don't know.
At the time, it felt real. It felt like a real loss. But now that we know we cannot have kids, I want to apologize for telling the people we love that we had a miscarriage when we most likely didn't.
The One GOOD Thing...
Actually, you're going to have to wait for the next post to hear about the one piece of good that came out of this sad story. As I was writing this, I realized that the positive thing I have to share deserves a post all on its own. ❤️