I'm okay. Just okay. I'm just trying to take things one day at a time.
I can be perfectly fine. Laughing, talking, not really even thinking about it. And the smallest thing will hit me. Then bring on the waterworks. This weekend, of course, was rough. I cried when I could button my regular pants all the way. I cried when I asked Marty to take the car seat that we'd recently gotten back from my parents, along with some maternity clothes I'd pulled out, back downstairs to the basement so I wouldn't have to look at them. I cried when four of my FB friends announced that they're pregnant this week (note: if you're pregnant or just announced you're pregnant, please don't get offended. I'm genuinely happy for you. It's just hard for me to process right now.). I cried when I looked in the fridge and saw a package of Lunchables, because I realized that I can eat deli meat again.
I never know when, or even if it's going to hit. I can see a baby out in public and be perfectly fine. Or I can see a Pampers commercial on TV and immediately start bawling.
Out of everything though, the hardest thing is still being pregnant. Yes, I'm still pregnant. With a fertilized egg and no baby, but pregnant nonetheless. Pregnant, sporting a baby belly and having all the wonderful pregnancy symptoms like fatigue and nausea. Pregnant...and just waiting to miscarry. When I left my doctor's office last week, I got the impression that it would be happening within a few days. After I got home, I started researching natural miscarriages. I wanted to know if other women recommended any steps or things to know if this was going to be happening at home. And that's where I learned that it could take WEEKS. Can you imagine being pregnant and walking around for weeks knowing that there's no baby in there and not knowing exactly when it's going to happen? It's like being told at the doctor's office that you're going to have a heart attack (note: I realize that having a heart attack and a miscarriage are two totally different things. It's just the best comparison I could think of). They know it's coming soon, but they can't be sure if it'll happen in a few days or a few weeks. So you walk around on eggshells. Should you go into town? What if it happens while you're there? Should you stay at home all the time? What if you go stir-crazy just sitting around at home just waiting for it to happen? Should you be alone? What if you're alone and it happens and something goes wrong? Maybe I'm being too anal and over-thinking it, but I'm scared to death. The unknown right now is almost worse than the fact that I'm pregnant with no baby. That, I've accepted for the moment. Normally, I don't like to be a "woe-is-me" kind of person. The purpose of this post isn't for you to feel sorry for me. But for today, I'm going to admit that I'm scared and I need help. I don't deal with the unknown very well. I'm a planner and I like to know when and how things are going to happen, so this is very hard for me to get a grasp on. Can you, for just a quick second, pray for me? Pray that I'll chill out (no, seriously). That I'll have the grace to deal with everything that happens when the time comes, whenever that may be. Pray that I stop trying to control things and start relying on God's timeline. I'm struggling. And I'll be the first to admit it.
This is the hardest thing I've ever gone through. So many emotions and facts and unpleasant things to have to be dealt with. The most heartbreaking thing though, is knowing how many of you have been through the exact same thing. I can't tell you the amount of comments and messages I got that said something along the lines of "I know exactly how you feel." or "I had a miscarriage too." So many of my friends, that I thought were leading normal lives, are carrying around a personal pain every single day and living with it. Almost all of them told me that the pain never goes away. That they still think of their baby on their miscarriage or their projected due date. That they carry the pain with them, they just learn how to deal with it. It breaks my heart. So, reader. While you're praying that God grants me grace and patience, say a prayer for all these women. The ones that carry the pain of miscarrying or losing a child and still manage to go through their daily lives. Say a prayer that they find peace and understanding, if they haven't already.
Throughout everything, I've been blessed with a wonderful husband who has been right by my side through this entire thing--wiping my tears, asking if I need anything, bringing me medicine, sleeping on the couch so he doesn't disturb me. If I didn't have Marty by my side right now, I don't know where I'd be. Probably curled up in a ball in my bed, calling into work everyday.
And then there's Avery. If I didn't have Avery, I wouldn't have a purpose to actually get dressed every day. I really would be crying nonstop, while my laundry and dishes and trash spiraled out of control (I think the laundry is getting close to being at that point anyway). Avery is the sole reason I get out of bed every morning. She's the sole reason I come home and attempt to get a few things accomplished, rather than going straight back to bed and eating my weight in McDonald's pumpkin pies.
So, to answer you. I'm okay. I'm here. But that's as good as it's going to get for a little while.
"Be strong, because things will get better. It might be stormy now, but it can't rain forever."