How am I doing?
Fair to middling. Not even sure what "middling" really means, I have just always wanted to use that term to describe my mood. I am okay. Not great, but okay. Really. We are all intermittently weepy and I never know what will set me off, but I am here.
Do you need anything?
Red wine. And sushi. And pork products with lots of nitrates. And soft cheeses. And Motrin. And hugs (although those have been know to trigger tears, but I'll take my chances).
Do you regret telling people the news early?
I don't really regret saying anything at all. We told the news publicly around when I was 8-9 weeks, when we had already seen a heartbeat on the ultrasound, so we felt we may be out of the woods. We miscarried about 1.5 weeks later. I really have appreciated the humbling support of those who know and love me and I wouldn't be able to get through this without each of you.
Will you try again?
Of course. When we are emotionally ready, whenever that will be.
How is the Kid doing?
I am not sure how much she understands abstractly. We told her in a way that we believe she will understand. Basically explaining in a way that is consistent with our faith as well as telling her Mommy and Daddy will probably be sad for a while and that it is okay for her to be sad and cry. We are grateful to friends who have offered plenty of distractions for her. It was hard yesterday when she and I was talking about the cross (and how it symbolizes how God talks to man).
The Kid: So that means God can do anything, right?
Me: Right. God can do anything.
The Kid: How do you talk to God?
Me: You can talk to God any time you want by just praying and listening to him. Do you want to talk to God?
The Kid: Yes.
Me: Do you want to ask Him for anything?
The Kid: I want to ask Him to give me another brother or sister.
Me: He will, baby. Not right now, but He will again someday.
That is the hardest part. Helping a four year old grieve.
Will it be weird for you to be around pregnant people and baby showers?
Ummm, no. I am a pediatrician. I am constantly surrounded by pregnant ladies and babies, so any avoiding pregnant people will be impossible. I think having already had a child is probably helping me get through this. I could imagine myself being very bitter if I didn't already have a child. Not the most flattering admission, but a human one. I am ECSTATIC about my sister's upcoming shower and hope to be able to help throw a shower for a friend who is due the same time as I would have been (I'm looking at you, B.). Will I have a sense of longing? Sure. Jealous? No. I am incredibly proud of and happy for every single preggo I know.
What has surprised you?
I am absolutely humbled by the outpouring of love. I would say thank you, but it doesn't feel like enough. People who I haven't talked to since high school and elementary school have reached out. The internet can be a good thing. The way I revealed our grief publicly isn't for everyone. I know that. I have a friend from church who miscarried at the same stage of pregnancy and on the same day I did that few people know about. Some need to do this quietly. For me, sharing and talking lessens the weight a little.
I am also surprised at the private emails and texts and messages where SO MANY of my friends have gone through a pregnancy loss. Literally one in four messages was from a friend who had also miscarried. (Which is consistent with the statistic that 25% of ALL pregnancies end in miscarriage). Thank you each woman who shared her story.
I am not alone.
Now someone stop me before I start singing women's suffragette songs.