I've been sitting on this post for a while, not exactly sure I should publish it. The clincher is this: I have stories from vacation to share with you (funny ones, even!) that you will only understand if you know the back story. So. Here you go...
I was pregnant in the end of July. I knew right away. I felt all the things you feel when you're first pregnant. Kind of cautious-stomached, kind of tired-slow-moving, but not full-blown first-trimester bleh yet. After having done it twice before, I was just so sure. A week and a half later I took a test and my knowing was shareable with my husband and my mom who was visiting at the time. And the Bubba and I went through all the "Wow. Ok. Three. That's kind of a big deal. Huh. Ok... Yeah. We can do this. Three! Wow! Yeah! High five! Woo!"
And then two-thirds of the way through August I wasn't pregnant anymore. Just like that.
I started spotting. I thought "No problem! Implantation! I think it's too late for that, but WHATEVER, THAT'S WHAT IT IS!" But it wasn't. I lost the baby. The baby that we had just gotten our brains around.
What just happened? This is something that happens to OTHER people. Not me.
Of course my first thought was "I ran a 10k on Saturday." and "I wasn't sure about this at first." It's my fault. I did something to bring this on. I did something wrong. Which wrong thing was it? I'll go through the litany and analyze them all. And along with all of those thoughts of guilt (which I sort of expected and was able to keep from getting too out of control) came this strong feeling of shame. I was so embarrassed. So embarrassed that it took some working up to even tell my husband. I felt like I should have kept the pregnancy to myself and then no one would even know, I would never have to admit this.
So after admitting to the four people who knew, I carried on pretending that nothing happened. Except that after the shame started wearing away, I started feeling much more plain old sadness. It was early, but it was a loss. A disappointment. And there were hormones involved. I am sad, but I'm also afraid. What if it happens again? What if I can't get/stay pregnant ever again? What if the kids I have are it? Is this my whole family? (I know full well how incredibly blessed I am to have the two amazing babies who are snoring softly in the next room.)
Then from sadness and fear to helplessness. Ah, helplessness -- I've come around a little to realize that something happened to me. Not something I did. Not anything I could help. It was a THING outside of my control.
So, at this point, I think I DO want people to know. I mean, I've let go of (most of) the shame by now. If you're part of my life, I share most everything with you, anyway. It happened. It was a bummer. You support me. (Thanks for that.)
I also realized that I could use prayers. I could use some lifting up. Isn't it always after the fact that I realize I should have asked for some help? In this moment of sadness and disappointment and fear, I'm having a hard time imagining that I will ever be pregnant again. I know everything will work out, but right now I wouldn't mind at all being in your prayers.
And I need you to know why I can't show super-excitement for your pregnancy right this very second. I want you to know why I'm kind of sad holding your six-week old baby. I want you to know that I really am over the moon that you had an ultrasound today, but I just can't be part of the celebration yet. I'm still getting over the fact that it's not me.
I just need a minute, and then I'll be dancing with you again.