I started this blog to help me heal and try and come to terms with the loss of my baby. It’s ended up being mainly about relationships and finding someone; coming to grips with breaking up with Gary and the aftermath. Not what I wanted – really, who needs another break up story? But it is helping me work through it.
Yet still at the back of my mind has been the urge to write about my pregnancy and subsequent miscarriage. The loss of my baby. My body’s betrayal. The guilt I tell myself I’m not feeling. The grief that I had hoped to be over.
I have so desperately wanted to write about my experience in the hospital, the days leading up to it and the days following. But it still hurts – a hurt like I didn’t believe was possible.
This is a reveal that could be many posts and will take time to write and many drafts. I just don’t know when I’ll be ready to write it in full, give it the justice that I feel it needs.
I know that it will hurt. I know that I will cry. I know that I will have to think deeply about what happened. I know I will have to address all the feelings and emotions that I’m trying to forget. I don’t know that I’ll ever be ready but I do know that I have to write it.
I’m scared of crying again – I have cried so much in the last two months that I’m sick of it – I hate the feeling of the tears streaming down my face, my nose running and my face burning up. I hate wiping my face with tissues. I hate the weakness I am seeing in myself for crying. I hate it all.
I’m scared that I’ll feel like I did again the day before I started my new job. I’m scared I’ll fall down a dark hole and won’t come back up. I’m scared that I’ll want to see him again. I’m scared that I’ll be alone.
I’m scared of seeing what else is buried within.