waitingforourbeachbabe-blog
Tired Of The Storm
Trying to cultivate hope
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“Acting like you don’t care is not letting it go.”
— Penelope Douglas
(via naturaekos)
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Womanhood isn’t always Motherhood
So can we all stop making this the ultimate endgame to being a female?
I get it, having a child totally changes your life. I get it, having a child is a goal for many women (including a personal goal for myself). But please … Can we STOP implying that bearing a child makes you more of a woman? Because with this mindset, you are simultaneously implying that those of us that do not have children are therefore, for lack of a better term, a LESSER woman.
I know you don’t mean too. I know after the pregnancy, and the labour, and the breastfeeding you feel like one badass lady ready to take on the world. And there is nothing I love more in this world than a fierce female. But please, think about your messaging. Be fierce, but empower yourself without dampening others. Women can do great things if we just support each other.
Examples? Oh, I’ve got plenty. The following are all phrases that have been spoken either directly to me, or with me (a very obviously childless female) as a main part of the conversation.
‘I’ve never felt more like a woman before … “
���I’ve never felt complete until now … “
“I bet you didn’t know a piece of you was missing until you had him… “
“My life meant nothing before my child”
“I finally understand why I was put on this Earth.”
“I never knew I was missing this light in my life.”
Now take a step back. Just imagine you are a woman who at this point has no idea if she is biologically able to bear children of your own. How does this make you feel?
Because it kind of makes me feel like I am playing the game of Life. I’m on a singular path to a predetermined goal, and I have to follow all steps to feel fulfilled. And I made it about ¼ of the way through and I hit a roadblock and am no longer allowed to play. But other players continue to shout back at me how amazing it is, and how I’m really missing out.
Cool.
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The First Time I Was Pregnant
I have been trying to get pregnant for over a year now, and I’m trying to feel grateful for the fact that in the last year I have been pregnant twice.
I was so excited to have a June baby. I was born in June, so maybe I’m biased. I also live in a country where we have all four seasons and to me, late spring seems to be the best time to have a baby. It was the end of September when we saw that first positive pregnancy test- it was faint, but it was there. Two long days later, we tested again, and there was no question of our eyes playing tricks on us-- it was there, I was pregnant.
I was so excited. I had my best friend since I was two-years-old moving home the next weekend and we had planned to surprise our very close group of girls with the news that she had moved home, for good. I was so excited to tell the girls about baby gemini coming in June 2019, and I knew, they would scream and yell and cry with excitement. These girls are my sisters, they are unlike any other relationship I have ever had. I had planned on telling them and only them.
My husband was cautiously excited about me being pregnant, we both knew people that have had miscarriages and how awful that has been. I had myself convinced though; “it’s not going to happen to me. It didn’t happen to my sister or my mom, I will be fine”. And so I continued happily checking various versions of the bump app to see what kind of seed the baby was that day and what kind of foods to avoid. “Oh my goodness my baby fits on the end of a bobby pin! How cute!”
With all the information on the baby development apps also came a timeline. At 13 weeks is where most people announce their pregnancies. Perfect. 13 weeks= mid December, my husband’s birthday and a wonderful time of year to start sharing the news with all of our extended family over the holiday season. I planned to wear my favourite black turtleneck with a bow placed on my perfect baby bump for all the Christmas dinners. June is just the perfect time to have a baby! JUST SO PERFECT!
The next Friday night I had a lovely dinner out with my 4 year old niece, my parents and my husband. I was so proud of myself for not telling them during dinner. I starting having some cramping that night and a little bit of brown spotting. Not to worry through, because I wasn’t going to have a miscarriage. I am healthy. I eat kale. I don’t smoke. I am not a planner, even though this pregnancy was very much planned-- things just happen to work out for me. This will not happen to me. Just in case though, I scoured the internet for spotting and cramping in early pregnancy and had myself convinced that it was normal.
Saturday morning I woke up early from the pain. I went to the bathroom and found bright red blood. I started hyperventilating. I sobbed, and sobbed and sobbed. I was broken. I woke up my husband to tell him and cried so hard that I was choking. I told one of my best friends that morning and she was on guard for me all day, we shifted plans so I wasn’t driving anymore and no one has suspected the surprise guest.
Two hours later, my husband drove me to pick up my friend whom I hadn’t seen in a year and all I wanted to do was cry and fall apart in her arms. I didn’t. I kept my sunglasses on, said hello to her family, gave her a quick hug and got back in the car. I have known her for 30 years.
Next, I proceeded with the now one and only grande reveal to, surprise the rest of the girls of the latest resident. The girls were so surprised and ecstatic. I wanted to cancel the whole day and spend it crying in bed. Instead, I went to a craft market, I bought all kinds of shit I did not need trying to make myself feel better. The girls had wine, I quietly declined and cried behind my sunglasses “I guess I could drink this now”.
My eyes were swollen, my throat was sore and my heart was broken.
The next day we had tickets for an NFL game with friends. The entire day I was so nauseous and felt so sick.
On Monday, I went to work and I haven’t worn that turtle neck since.
#miscarriage#earlyloss#everylossmatters#june2019#ttc#heartbreak#ieatkale#perfect#fertility#miscarriagesupport
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Today was really hard
People stop asking you if you are okay long before things are okay. People assume that because I’m getting up and going to work and moving on and making good lifestyle choices that I must not be depressed.
And probably depressed isn’t really the right word, but I’m really sad. I cried in the middle of the day for like 25 minutes and it was the same crying that I had when I first lost our baby. It was that gut wrenching sob that left a burning feeling in my throat.
Tonight, I accidentally spilled a bunch of angel hair pasta on the floor while I was cooking dinner. My fiancé was in the living room occupied so he didn’t see me crouch down and pick it up piece by piece while the tears just streamed down my face. I pulled myself back together by the time I was done cooking. And then during dinner I stressed about the pasta. I stress about basically everything I eat because what if somehow I could have stopped myself from losing the baby? And what if there’s a way I can prevent it from happening again. I’ve searched every single article online and seen my doctors a bunch of times and I haven’t really found anything that says I can prevent it. But I still obsessively look.
Tonight, I’ll probably either cry silently or wait until he goes to sleep and then cry. I don’t want to keep crying in front of him because he cant fix this. And because I don’t want him to give up on trying again.
A part of me thinks that trying again is part of why I’m so emotional. Trying again is pretty much what got me through having a miscarriage. I had to believe that someday I was going to bring home a real live baby. But now that it’s in my face, it reminds me that I lost something so huge. I lost our baby. We made a baby together, it was part him and part me, and it died inside of my body. And I’ll never ever be the same because I should be done my first trimester by now. I should be so happy. I should be well on my way to the best thing that I ever happened to me. I should be pregnant. I should be having my fiancé’s baby. I’m so angry and I’m so sad and I don’t even know how I kept going after having that miscarriage. I miss being pregnant every single day. I’m such a fucking mess.
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