This whole week has been kind of surreal. It's been so fast, and so strange that it's a little hard to remember what started it all. I had a very hard time coming back from the surgery on Monday. I deal with pain and discomfort really well. I don't usually let things hold me back but this knocked me on my butt and I have been struggling all week. It's Thursday and today's the first day I've been in the office for a full day. I"m counting the minutes until I can go. I'm not hugely uncomfortable but I'm definitely craving my comfy pants and heating pad.
The truly odd thing has been 90% of the women I talk to have had a miscarriage. I might almost say 99% of women with children has had one, or more. The number is staggering. I was amazed. I am amazed. It's so common, it's so frequent and no one talks about it. No one. It's like a dirty secret that you can't tell unless you're sure that the other person has had one too, and then it's offered as a shared comfort. Which is ironic because at the time, the last thing anyone wants to hear is other people's sympathy stories. At least for me. I don't know if other women find it comforting that there are a multitude of lost babies out there, but I didn't. It didn't change my pain. I didn't feel comforted knowing I wasn't alone, because I was alone. For a few weeks I had a little companion, always with me, always in the back of my head as a reminder of 'don't do that' or 'remember to do this.' I loved my companion. It had a heart beat. I saw it. I never felt it though. I never felt pregnant and I think that was a true sign of what was to come.
It's this strange little club, the miscarriage club. Lifetime membership at such a cost. No one wants to join but there are so many of us here. Huddled in our loss and hurt. The fortunate ones have babies to hug. My heart hurts for the women who lose their first baby and have to struggle through doubts of whether they can have a healthy pregnancy. I am thankful for that mercy. For my darling Baby A.