I wanted to believe I was over it. I honestly want live beyond these feelings of waning sadness and despair. The down happens less than the up; the up wins overall. But when I sit down to write I lack fodder for those ‘up’ ideas. My head, heart, and body are still processing the loss.
So, I lied. I’m not over my miscarriage, and I doubt I will ever be “over it.” There’s a part of my heart which will always hold onto the possibility. But I am feeling better-ish.
When I look around I see pregnant women everywhere. When we went back to the OB for my 2 week post-surgery follow up I swear the amount of expectant couples doubled since any visit prior. There are families telling of their good news on Facebook and Twitter and Instagram and I guiltily harbor feelings of jealousy towards them. I try to be happy for my friends’ swollen bellies instead of feeling like they’re pointing and leering at me. I installed a Chrome extension to replace pictures of infants with random cats and bacon (it makes me laugh every.time.).
Who doesn’t want their friends to be happy? Who wouldn’t prefer to see a smile over a wallowing blog post about trying their best to be better? Who probably wants to slap me and tell me to just get over it?
I know I do.
I’m writing about lighter topics, they just need editing and the proper frame of mind. Please don’t run away, dear readers! Thank you for your patience and your support.
To spring and new beginnings!