You guys must think I complain a lot. I wonder if you think I am constantly venting to random people about my personal life given how candid I am on this blog.
Truth is, I don't. Most people are completely unaware of my current struggles. My mom knows... three friends know... one coworker knows... and possibly a sibling or two depending on who my mom might've said something to. Besides that, I've been completely mum on the entire subject.
As I said before, I'd rather remain silent than cry. Talking about this, when I'm not in full control of the conversation, will inevitably make me cry. So I don't say anything and I pretend everything is perfectly fine.
That being said, I'm NOT perfectly fine. I understand that, and I accept that. I'm not a heaping mess of tears in the corner, either, though. Right now, I feel like an actor going through the motions of life.
It's not that I don't trust my family, friends or coworkers with what's going on. It's just... how do you bring something like this up? What's the point even if I do? Pity? No thank you.
So far, reactions thus far to my situation have been a mixed bag.
Some folks (my husband included) think I deluded myself into believing I was pregnant.
Some folks sorta roll their eyes and think I'm being a hypochondriac because even if it was an early miscarriage, it's not like it's a big deal or anything.
Finally, some folks (you readers included) have been kind and understanding.
Truthfully, I think I keep my mouth shut because most people I'd tell would likely fall into the first two categories. The first two reactions to my situation are very, very hurtful, so I don't bother opening myself up for that sort of emotional suicide.
I don't really speak much on this topic at all which is why the brunt of my venting happens through this blog.
The reason I bring this up is because one of the friends who knows made a comment that made me stop in my tracks. She's known me since college. While we were talking, she asked how this weekend went and I said, "It went better than I expected, honestly." She then said (and I'm physically cringing while writing this) "Yeah, I figured you were over everything from all the photos you posted."
I actually didn't know what to say.
It's true that I'd posted photos of a birthday party I'd attended. I had actually been contemplating NOT going on account of what had been going on, but my friend, Jay, was really looking forward to it. Plus, I knew that my other friends, Frank and Megan, would be there, too, and I didn't want to bail last minute on the birthday girl.
So I went. I'm glad I did because I was very proud of how I handled myself. It was like a test-run for how I could survive my own family or in-laws gathered together for whatever holiday comes up next. I was determined not to be a downer for Jay, and I was determined not to let on that I was anything but the happiest match-maker in the country.
Photos are a part of who I am. If I wasn't taking photos, my friends would've known something was wrong. So take pictures I did, and I made sure they were happy ones.
And truth be told, I did feel happy in some of them. I did enjoy my time at the party meeting new people and catching up with old friends. However, just because I appeared to be the pristine model of happiness does not mean nothing was hidden behind the smile.
Those pictures didn't capture the moment I walked from the dance floor because the image of a brother dancing with his little sister was too much for me. They didn't capture the temporary fumbling for composure I had when one of the friends who does know asked how I was fairing. They also didn't capture the five minutes I spent in the bathroom after being asked by a guest when my husband and I would be having more children.
I actually laugh thinking back at that adorable woman asking in a Polish accent, "But just one? You're young, you're young. Have many!"
So yes. Of course I looked happy in those pictures. I wasn't gonna go parade myself around with running mascara and a Mopey Mary complex. I was what I needed to be, and I actually took pride in my ability to compartmentalize my emotions. It made me feel stronger... ready for whatever family function I'd have in the upcoming months that might be a little tough.
But no - just because I'm able to plaster a smile on my face at-will... just because I'm able to crack a joke or dance with a friend during a party... none of that means I'm "over everything."
What does that even mean, anyway???
Did she think I was no longer emotionally raw? That maybe I'd finished grieving or that I'd finally convinced myself I wasn't pregnant to begin with? Or maybe I had accepted my circumstances and she'd never have to wait for the next awkward time it came up in conversation?
I seriously had no idea. So I asked. I said, "What do you mean by 'over everything'?"
She said, "Oh, I didn't mean anything by it. I meant that I figured you were okay with, ya know... what happened. You looked happy."
Times like this, I wonder how Jesus remained sinless, because you just know He had similar experiences with Peter or the other apostles.
"I look happy, Peter? That's what you've got? I look happy? You're supposed to be one of My best friends. Did you really think I'd just "get over" losing My cousin, John? Just because I'm enjoying a nice meal with you and these 5,000+ people doesn't mean I'm not still hurting for My cousin."
Oh sigh. He not only remained sinless and didn't snark back at Peter, He went ahead and performed a miracle and fed a bunch of people - all while He mourned the passing of John the Baptist.
I didn't snark back, but I was wounded. I just pointed out that while I was happy for most of the party, there were moments of struggle that I'm sure will repeat in the coming weeks and months.
So why am I share all of this? Why am I posting about it?
Because I've come to realize the internet (and society in general) has woefully inadequate information on this particular situation. No one knows how to talk about miscarriages - ESPECIALLY early ones. No one knows what to say or how to handle their friends who might be going through such an emotional free-fall.
So I'm going to document it as best I can. I'm going to chronicle my journey in the hopes that it eventually helps someone, somewhere, struggling to either endure this situation, or looking to help a friend endure it.
Plus, on a personal level, I just feel better typing.
Top Rated Entries
My Darkest Secret
Do Animals Have Souls?
10 Things a Parent of an SPD Kid Wants to Say
Fun and Easy Lenten Crafts
Blessed Mother as Intercessor
Loss of Life
Women Priests II
Render Unto Caesar
The Godparent Poem
NYT Anti-Catholic Ad
Pages I Stalk
A Woman's Place
Real Catholic Love & Sex
Having Left the Altar
Fr. Z @ WDTPRS
These Stone Walls
St. Joseph's Vanguard
Traditional Latin Mass
Truth, Beauty and Goodness
The Way Out There
Written by the Finger of
Little Catholic Bubble
So You're a Church Musician
There and Back Again
Make It - Love It
St. Monica's Bridge