In-Between

I feel like my heart and mind contradict each other — and themselves — all the time these days. I try my best to stay present, but things change rapidly. It makes sorting my emotions difficult, and makes writing seem impossible. But I promised myself I’d do my best to create throughout this experience, and writing is one of my main forms of creation, so here we are. I’ve also received a few emails, calls and texts from people ‘just checking in’ because they hadn’t gotten an update lately, so I think it’s about time. 

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Remembering // Forgetting

One of the biggest dilemmas I feel in my heart is how I should be moving forward. I have a 3-week post-surgery check up with my OB-GYN tomorrow and my body is now feeling pretty normal [last week was full of fun hormonal surprises (i.e. random surprise bleeding and shooting pains in my breasts that others tell me was my milk drying up)]. I’m curious to hear what my OB suggests, but I know that most advise waiting at least one to three full cycles before trying to conceive again. One part of me wants to move on immediately; wait for my first cycle and then try to get pregnant again right away. That way the age gap between Isaac and his little sibling could hopefully not be too big, and we could just move forward and forget that any of this even happened.

The other part of me doesn’t want to forget. It wants to remember every little thing about my second pregnancy and honor the spirit of that baby. That part of me wants desperately to remember what it felt like to feel those flutters of her movement and never forget how lucky I was to be able to carry her for as long as I did. That part of me doesn’t want her to be forgotten. That part of me is also deathly afraid of having another miscarriage.

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Just Leave Me Alone // Ask Me Anything

I’ve always been a living, breathing dichotomy in that I’m both extremely introverted and yet transparent to a fault. I have no problem telling anyone how I really feel, and yet it exhausts me to be around a lot of people. When I started a blog a few years back I think everyone who read it assumed I was outgoing and extroverted because I share my life so openly. In actuality, Ben talks to more people than I do on a daily basis and I’d much rather swim or meditate than go out and grab a beer. And yet, I feel that Truth Speaking is one of the gifts I bring to this life — and it makes me feel less lonely to share my experiences — so I do my best to share openly and whole-heartedly. By sharing my late miscarriage story, I have heard beautiful and heart-wrenching stories from so many women and men. It has allowed for some amazing conversations to take place; a few of people have actually told me that it was also healing for them to be able to talk about their experiences and support me. I want so badly for our culture to be able to have these hard conversations out in the open so that (a) those going through it feel supported and (b) we know how to support those who are grieving.

At the same time, another part of me just wants to be done with it. It wishes I wasn’t so transparent and honest about what’s happening with me because it means that everyone knows my business and may be treating me differently because of it. That part of me beats myself up for forcing people to listen to my story — which really isn’t all that uncommon anyway, so who am I to share? — and feels like I’ve thrown myself a pity party. That part of me doesn’t want your pity – it just wants to be left alone to figure things out.

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Please Stop Flaunting Your Growing Belly at Me // You’re Gorgeous, How Are You Feeling?

I have always loved hapai women. I’ve been obsessed with babies since I was one myself. Some of the most profound experiences of my life have been alongside laboring women. So the fact that I could barely look at a pregnant woman without bursting into tears for the first few weeks has been almost devastating for me. When a Mama-to-Be left me a message asking if I’d be her doula in January, I sobbed for ten minutes and then had to write her a text apologizing for not having the balls to call her back, and referring her to someone else. At work, there were two other close coworkers who were my preggo-buddies. As their bellies round out and they prepare themselves, I feel barren and lonesome. The toughest are those Mamas who were in similar situations to us – kids who are meant to be 3.5 years apart with their first child preparing to become an older sibling. I just keep thinking, That excited kid should be Isaac. That should be us. 

And yet, I want to know all about how hapai mamas are feeling. I miss the birthing world and can’t wait to get back to assisting in labor and delivery. I want to see families prepare for their new blessings and watch again as a woman realizes her own strength during the rite of passage that is motherhood. I want to hear all about how your nursery is coming along, see your maternity photos, and talk about how many cat-cows you’re doing every day. I love that stuff.

There is definitely a plus side to being able to hold two contradictory emotions at the same time. It keeps me human and reminds me of how life works in balance. It reminds me that I get a choice in how I feel.

These days, I am taken aback when I least expect it. Most days are pretty uneventful, but sometimes I become incredibly emotional over little things. A pregnant mama talking about her experience entering the third trimester made me think about how far along I’d be by now if I hadn’t lost my baby [about 22 weeks]. Rude comments at the playground about how ‘only children are spoiled’ and ‘the ideal age gap is between 2-4 years’ literally take my breath away. Looking forward in my calendar and seeing a heart around February 5th, my due date, brings tears to my eyes.

And, at the same time, I know how unbelievably fortunate I am in all of this to have a healthy, happy three year old running around, keeping me busy and reminding me that my body can have living, happy babies. I know how lucky I am to be in a position to try again. I trust that when the time is right, we will have another beautiful baby. For these things, I am grateful.

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