I Am More Than One in Four

November 11, 2020:

The day I took two pregnancy tests because I just couldn't believe the 1st one. As cliche as it sounds, as soon as I knew I went into planning and nesting mode and I could hardly wait to tell Dilan that night when he got home. I'd planned out how I would tell him I was pregnant for so long, it was such a sweet moment to see it come to be outside of my Pinterest collection. I could barely stand the few moments where Dilan did EVERYTHING POSSIBLE to avoid opening that dang box of donuts! 

November 30, 2020:

I started feeling a little funky, I had a huge headache, was extremely exhausted, and just felt off. I had started spotting and I started thinking the worst. I researched so many "what ifs" I made myself even sicker.

December 1, 2020:

I started spotting even more, called the doctor, and got my blood drawn for the first time to measure my levels. Dilan and I ended up driving around on an adventure around Manhattan to distract us, still dreaming, still hoping, but quietly wondering what was happening. 

December 3, 2020:

The day I found out for certain what my body was already clearly telling me. I was in the middle of a miscarriage at 7.5 weeks pregnant. I was now part of the one in four statistic for miscarriages. 

December 4, 2020:

The day I sat at a corner table in a local coffee shop speechless. I sat there numb. I sat there in shock. I sat there heartbroken. I sat there hurting. I sat there questioning. I sat there fearful and ashamed. I sat there grieving what I was smack dab in the middle of losing.

I want to share our story for a few reasons. First, as a way to help me process the vast emotions I've felt over the past few months as I've always found writing to be a healing process for me and more importantly, to share awareness. By no means am I the only one that has suffered this heartache of a miscarriage - I knew about miscarriages and in fact I knew many people who had had them - but the reality of it is the heartache is extremely different when you are the one in the middle of the storm. In the initial moments, it didn't feel like it mattered if I knew others who went through this, I felt alone. I felt a hurt unlike any I had experienced, one I felt like no one could possibly understand, and prayed those around me would never have to feel. Not many talk about the event of a miscarriage, let alone the aftermath that follows. For me, it was an aftermath of hurt, heartache, prayer, growth, and learning that boundaries are a good thing to have. 

So...

I took my first mental health day, EVER. 

I journaled.

I listened to miscarriage podcasts and bible studies.

I made a playlist I titled "Miscarriage on Repeat" (creative title I know).

Dilan and I bought a Christmas ornament to hang on our tree every year.

Dilan and I created a shadow box of pictures and memories from the sweet time I was carrying Baby O.

I cried into Dilan's arms. I cried in the shower. I cried in my car. I cried at the sight of a pair of baby shoes (that were super cute I might add). I legit cried over a bowl of noodles (it's a funny story if you ever want to hear it). I cried at the stroke of midnight New Year's Eve with the realization that the excitement I had imagined wouldn't come this year how I'd imagined. I cried every time I had to get my blood drawn as things slowly returned to "normal."

I wrestled with how to tell people, what to tell people, and when to tell people. 

I battled with the physical pieces of the miscarriage as my body released what had been built there. 

I struggled and am still struggling with bitterness. Oh so stinkin' much. 

I struggled to say "yes" when others offered to help or support us - but I'm thankful I finally said yes. A good meal from someone can make all the difference.

I trudged through the holidays without the real holiday spirit anywhere to be found.

I muted people on Facebook and Instagram that were sharing their pregnancy journeys. Not because I wasn't happy for them, but because that was a boundary that I needed to set for myself, my emotions, and my process of healing.

And you know what, I felt no shame in those things I did to help me cope with the absolute hardest thing I have been through mentally and physically. I listed many of these in past tense, but let me be the first to tell you that these emotions, habits, and feelings are still going strong and I'm still working through the aftermath of it all.  

So this year, Dilan and I might not get to make the pregnancy or birth announcement we had planned out in our heads. We didn't get a chance to tell our families at Christmas like we had planned. We might not get to transform our office into a nursery quite yet. We are reminded yet again that God's plan is bigger than any we could dream up. We were reminded yet again that a life of perfection isn't attainable and brokenness is okay to feel. But I have hope that one day we will be able to share the exciting news of a baby and hope that it will be a moment even sweeter than we've imagined. The greater the winter the better the harvest, or something like that, right?

I have found peace in so many things and am finding hope and joy in the little moments. Through this journey although absolutely heartbreaking, I am learning to "let the ground rest" as Dilan calls it - or find joy in rest, I'm finding peace in prayer and scripture, I'm allowing myself to be loved on by others instead of my usually "keep on keeping on" attitude however attractive that might be in moments, and I'm finding ways to not waste my anguish. 

If you are in the midst of a loss or the aftermath from one, it might feel like you are, but you're not alone. If you ever need to talk or want to hear more of my story, I am here. Or if you just need a listening ear, I'm here for that, too. It is a season of grief, sadness, anger, heartbreak, questions, and so much more. Regardless of it all and how you handled it or are handling it you are still so seen and so loved. There is no shame in how you handle your grief and your miscarriage. Find what works for you, let people support you, grieve how you need, and don't apologize. This is a season - however long it might be - a season has an ending and there is so much more for you than this moment.