I know I’m not the only person to have gone through this. I know that I should be grateful that it is even possible in the first place. But right now, none of that seems to matter.
On Thursday morning, I took a pregnancy test. A little plus sign showed up. It was a surprise. We weren’t trying. First time we ever had sex with no form of birth control, and it happened. I was ecstatic, scared, overwhelmed, nervous, and oh so happy. Thursday night I flew home to Delaware for a bridal shower that I was hosting. Friday I gabbed with my Mom over how wonderful it was going to be. Saturday right before the shower, one of the other bridesmaids said to me, “Did you cut yourself shaving? There’s blood on your leg.” I spent the remainder of the bridal shower attempting to keep a smile on my face and be a good maid of honor in front of everyone, all the while sneaking off into another room to sob hysterically whenever I was able.
I had a miscarriage.
I know that it’s really common for your first pregnancy. That doesn’t make it any better. I know that there is nothing I could have done to prevent it. But that doesn’t mean that I haven’t been rethinking every step I took the past four weeks and wondering what I could have done differently. I know that it’s not my fault. Unfortunately that does nothing to turn off the voice inside my head telling me that I LOST this child. I did. Me. Not any one else.
Why, since we weren’t trying, am I so upset over this? Why can’t I just move on and pretend nothing ever happened?
I feel selfish for being this way. There are couples who try for years to no avail, women who are infertile and men who are sterile. Apparently we are neither.
Why did I have to be 1500 miles away from my husband throughout almost this entire roller coaster of emotions?
Why is Delaware a place of car accidents, house fires and miscarriages for me?
Why did I even take that stupid test? I would have never known if I had just waited a few more days.
Why can’t I just stop asking questions and except this for what it is?