I should have a one-year-old today. Heck, I should have a two-year-old.
As I get closer to Thanksgiving, I look at the calendar and am reminded of my losses. I can’t help it. Not only did I lose my first pregnancy the day before Thanksgiving in 2016 but today would have been the due date for my second pregnancy. It’s hard to not feel sad, especially when there is still no baby.
I’ve been on quite the healing journey this past year. I’ve done a lot for my diet and my mental health. I’ve been told by everyone on my wellness team that the ball is in my court, and I’m in a good space both physically and emotionally to try again. I’ve been told this for months.
But I haven’t tried again. Because although everyone is telling me it’s okay, deep down I’m still being held back. By what? Myself. Fears. Negative thoughts. Things like…
- No one will be happy for me. Instead they’ll be fearful for me.
- I don’t have any friends that would want to throw a baby shower for me
- I can’t get pregnant until I am at my goal weight
- I’m going to look so fat and swollen and ugly when I’m pregnant
- I won’t make it full term
- I’ll have a still birth
- The pain from another loss would break me
- I’m not meant to be a mother
I’m embarrassed to even admit these thoughts and fears out-loud. I’m working through these emotional barriers with my therapist, but it isn’t easy when you are your own worst enemy. Pair this with being an HSP (Highly Sensitive Person) and anxiety, it’s just plain messy.
I honestly don’t know when I will ever be ready again. The desire to try again comes in waves, just like my grief. Yesterday, I felt this strong pull for a baby, but today it’s the opposite.
Suffering does not choose the weak or the strong, the faithful or the faithless. It chooses the human. When you are caught by waves that are larger than your capacity to stay above the surface, you’ve got to allow your heart to feel the pain all the way down to the bottom, so that when you get there you can see you’re still alive. There’s still hope. It’s from the bottom that we can begin to heal our way back up to the surface. The human heart is fragile, yes, but it’s also more resilient than we give ourselves credit for.
The last few years have been tough on me, to say the least. I’m trying to look at 2018 being the year for healing and working on myself, especially self-love. I don’t know what 2019 will bring for me, but I am hopeful.