How do I start this? By saying that I was driving home from dropping Jack at preschool and I turned on a song from the season finale of Six Feet Under and started crying? Or do I go all the way back to September 2007? Because September 2007 is when we found out we were pregnant with our 2nd. And then 10 days later our world was totally shattered when I started bleeding. What's the worst part of miscarriage? The fact that care providers have no fucking clue how to help you through it, or losing your baby, or having people tell you it wasn't a baby because they think it will make it easier.
We were on vacation when I had the first miscarriage. Just me, Nana, and Jack while Chris was home working during the weeks. It was the most bizarre, out of body experience I've ever had. And then, 2 short months later, I was pregnant again.
I guess I can't really even begin to explain what a blur those months were. We had just moved from Quincy to Medford. Chris was working ridiculous hours for UPS, holidays were coming and I still had Jack to take care of.
No matter how hard I tried to push it out of my mind, all I could think about was getting pregnant again. I knew I might have another miscarriage, but I had to feel normal again. I had to regain some trust in my body and know that it worked. So, after taking a few months to focus on me, start acupuncture, get a damn haircut, we hopped back in the saddle and got pregnant in May 08.
What does all this have to do with driving today? Well, today, I am exactly two months away from meeting this baby. Yep. I'm huge, and have a big kicking baby inside of me and talk about being a big brother with Jack and reminisce late nights and breastfeeding with Chris. Except for one problem. I haven't actually let myself believe a baby is coming. The truth of the matter is that it doesn't matter if you get pregnant again or not, but the trust does not come back. The trust in my body that it could create a baby, sustain a baby, birth a baby. And so today I cried. And cried and cried and cried. Beca
use what if I still lose this baby? What if something horrible happens and I have to lose this being that I love so dearly and desperately. I am writing this almost certain no one will read it, which offers me a bit of comfort. But I do secretly hope that some day a woman who has gone through the loss of a pregnancy stumbles upon this and knows she's not alone.
