I've been struggling back and forth with writing this post. This subject is incredibly personal to me and I feel fiercely private about it. Yet I begin to feel as if I am putting on a mask by not touching on it here as each day passes. I have found such generous understanding and support here from each of you, and I feel as if I would appreciate greatly your kind, thoughtful and caring thoughts.
I suffered a miscarriage this week. I was almost three months along. In fact, I was just about to share with our larger circle of friends and family that we were expecting. I was looking forward to sharing the news here as well.
And now it's not happening.
Months of secret happiness, of loving what my body was doing, of planning and thinking and collecting, of looking to the future, of eating kale at every meal, of remembering my vitamins and herbal supplements, of sewing little baby pants, of drinking kefir and sipping nettle and raspberry leaf teas, of sitting in loving silence with my hand on my belly, of feeling special every single day and every single time I remembered I am pregnant. Put on hold for a present experience of pain, loss and waiting. Starting over. Uncertainty. Impatience. Fear. Anger.
That's what's happening.
I'm resting and taking it easy, and have especially wonderful, wonderful support from tim and my midwives. I'm grateful for so much.
I miss being pregnant.
Thank you for being here and for listening. I appreciate it so much.