Since returning from the hospital Monday, I have not been able to sleep or eat. I have put my phone on silent and ignored my emails and messages, vowing to get to them when I no longer start weeping at the first thought of what has happened. I mope around the house looking for distractions but manage to avoid human interaction. My melancholy state of mind is only interrupted by bouts of anger – pure, blazing ANGER – at the world, at myself, and even at God.
I never realized I am capable of such wrath. I never realized I am capable of such selfishness, wondering thoughts such as ‘How can the world still be existing, still functioning normally when something so horrible has just happened?’
I can only tell myself that this will pass. Time will heal. GOD will heal.
Due to the cruelty of nature, my body still feels pregnant. At 12 weeks, my belly had started to round out and swell. I had just started to feel pressure when bending down…and I still feel my enlarged uterus, confused by the drastic dip in hormones, clinging to hold on to its prior state with every stoop that I take. My breasts remain sore and swollen.
Today I vowed to take the first steps toward recovery. I managed to answer some emails, looked up miscarriage support groups online, and even managed to finish an entire milkshake.
And as much as I want to forget the whole incident and pretend it never happened, I know that I would only be deluding myself by doing so. It hurts, but I want to – I need to – remember it. So I have written about my D&C experience in my Private Posts page (request access here).
I pray to God that J and I will be able to have healthy babies in the future. And that when I am finally able to hold my first child in my arms, I will be able to realize that as painful as it was, this will be the baby I am meant to hold forever in my arms…and that the baby we lost is the baby to hold forever in my heart.