I’m not pregnant anymore. This poppyseed was not our baby.
And… I’m OK. Admittedly, I wasn’t initially, but I’ve had some time, and done a lot of thinking, and spoken to the Boy (and cried at him), and spoken to my therapist (and cried at her), and started having acupuncture, and done some more holistic reading, and gotten back into yoga, and had some much-needed rest (what can I say, it’s been quite a week!) and… I’m as OK as I can be. I really am.
Obviously, I don’t know why I miscarried early, again, and in addition to all the tree-hugging, hippie stuff already mentioned I have seen another, more sympathetic GP, and have a scan booked for next week to check out my ladyparts, so I’m not neglecting the hard science. But, I do think the overwhelming anxiety and disbelief that I experienced as my primary response to the pregnancy (instead of, you know, unremitting JOY) probably had rather a lot to do with it. (It may be stagnant Qi, or it may be chronically high levels of cortisol, but either way it has the same result. Environments poorly conducive to flourishing poppyseeds.)
So, I’ve decided that really, I’m not ready. Not quite. Clearly, I am full of Fear that I wasn’t completely conscious of, or whose strength I hugely underestimated before. So I’m calling a bit of a time out. Taking some time to work on me. To figure out what’s going on with me physically, and try to improve that, and simultaneously figure out what on earth is going on in my headspace, and see what I can do about that as well. This is not necessarily due to an assumption on my part that there’s something ‘wrong’ with me (although, a feeling of brokenness may well be part of what I’ve got to work on), rather it’s mostly an expression of my understanding that my body and my mind are inextricably intertwined, and I can’t look at the one without considering the other.
If I’m not too embarrassed by where this all takes me (see hippy, tree-hugging way of life already mentioned, and consider that I am now, I suppose, mindfully preparing for conception in a way I might have previously mocked - my words, they are mighty tasty), I might write a bit about it, because it’s already proving rather fascinating. Then again, remaining detached enough to ‘observe’ the process might be counterproductive to being completely immersed in it. And the first thing I’m working on is my optimism, and the belief that I’ll feel whole again in two twos. So, I don’t know about sharing this part. We’ll see.
There is one thing that is actually quite comforting about everything that’s happened. (And no, it really isn’t, ‘At least you know you can get pregnant!’ That might get you punched in the face, no matter how zen I become.) Because now I am fully consciously aware of this Fear of mine, so it’s out in the open, where it can be held up to the light, examined and understood. In the bright spring sunlight, so promising of regeneration and renewal, where hopefully one day quite soon, I can look it full it in the face and tell it to fuck right off.
I’m sorry. I hope that this time is positive for you. (And I’ll punch anyone who pulls that sh*t in the face for you.)
There’s no quicker way to my heart than offering violence on my behalf.
Thank you.
First off, hugs, and love, and coffee, and booze. And yes, that comment is totally worth a punch in the face.
I wish you peace on this trip. I take up yoga off and on (it’s on right now, and will continue to be so) and am a big believer in massage and bodywork. I’m learning to accept the fear, turn it around in my hands and throw it where it deservingly belongs. Far, far away. But it’s always there in some fashion, and as long as it’s not debilitating, it keeps me on my toes. A frenemy, if you will.
Tasty words, or not, do what feels right for you. And share if you want, or don’t, we’ll be here for you in whatever fashion you need whenever you need us.
Thank you, my love. Frenemy – I like that. And I wish you a pregnancy and experience of motherhood that is as fearless as humanly possible.
Oh dear. I am sorry to hear this news. Hugs.
I’m so sorry to hear this. I wish I had some insightful, tactful comment to make but all I have rolling around in my head is a big long, fuuuuuuck.
That said, I am pulling for you, and am incredibly impressed by the direction you’ve decided to take with all this. I’m sending good vibes your way *hugs*
Oh little one. I am so sorry. We believe in tree-hugging, here in Northern California, and that all will be well. Spend some time in the sun. Eat well. You are quite inspirational, you know?
Inspirational? No, I didn’t know. Thank you. There is sunshine now, and I’m raising my face to it as often as possible. Also, being called little one brings happy memories.
I too am sorry. I don’t have any other words which with to express what I would like, save that all that “hippy shit” might help, that and time. I am thinking of you.
oh, agirl. my heart goes out to you.
I selfishly hope that you do feel like sharing how things go for you from here because your writing is so beautiful and wise and thought-provoking. but more than that I hope that you just do whatever feels right for you and that whatever that is brings you whatever you need.
Thank you my dear.
So terribly sorry to hear the news and am sending all the positive energy I can muster your way.
I’m so sorry, take time and make sure you and your Boy look after yourselves. Thinking of you both.
Oh, honey. I wish I had words that could make it all better. You sound like you’re already headed to a good place, mentally and emotionally. It’s good to get the Fear out in the open; things get less scary in the light.
If you want to share, we’re here; and if you don’t want to share, we’re still here. Meanwhile, I’m sending you hugs & love & hand squeezes & cups of tea. xoxoxo
(PS – please add me to the punching-in-the-face brigade if anyone even *thinks* something like that.)
Where I am certainly feels better. Also, tea and violence – love.
Sending many hugs. You will get through this and find yourself stronger in the end. Many women go through this; it is not unusual at all and you are certainly not broken.
As you know, I have hugs and whisky (which you can have now!) and fist shaking on offer.
But more importantly, this feels like a breakthrough, in some surprising way, and the beginning of something good. I think taking time to take care of yourself and figure yourself out is the opposite of obsessive compulsive only-focus-on-the-future-baby ‘preparation.’ And you know, in the meantime, you can always *practice* making a baby (that won’t hurt…). And then you can take some naps and do some acupuncture and do a little thinking. Hugging trees can be good, if mixed with a wee bit of booze
Tree hugging and booze sounds an excellent combination. Thank you my dear. This makes me smile. As well as feel slightly less obsessive compulsive nutso.
I’m so sorry.
And I love you and think you’re awesome. x
Love you too, my dear. xo
I am very sorry to hear this. And I agree with Lisa on your inspiration quotient- this post was amazing and not at all what I expected, given the sad news. You are so solid. Take care.
Thank you my love. I will.
TOTAL shitfulness. I’m so sorry.
I do hope you write about it, you don’t have to make it public. I haven’t posted most of what I’ve written but reading back over it is so helpful and makes me feel like I’ve come so far.
You know what I reckon? I think lessons in how to overcome the fear and how to be free of the anxiousness would be much more valuable in school than algebra and the periodic table.
If we’d had that we could have cleared all this shit
a long time ago!
Thinking of you
x
Oh yes, it would be MUCH more valuable, no? Thank you my dear. And I am keeping my own journal. Let’s hope I see myself travel some distance on this journey as well.
Thank you so much for all your kind words, my dears. You are marvellous, each and every one of you. xo
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so sorry to hear this, but also happy to hear that you are thinking so sensibly about how to fight the fear.
I’m very sorry to hear about your “M”. I, myself, just experienced one in November. And you’re right, the comment “At least you can get pregnant” DOES deserve a punch in the face. There are moments you want to cry and wail because it doesn’t make sense and then moments you’re strong and it all happened for a reason. I wish you much happiness and peace
Fuck shit fuck. I’m so sorry my love. But also so happy for you that you’re figuring some stuff out for you and your self. Happy and sad and totally totally totally sorry that I’m so very fuckung slow at keeping up.
All my love and hugs and a shit tonne of violence for you dear one. xx
So sorry to hear this and big hugs. Haven’t commented before but wanted to say you ARE inspirational and really appreciate you’re beautifully honest writing.
I so agree that the fear is the hardest thing to come to terms with – not least, because of the guilt in feeling so fearful. The other comments that deserve a punch are “don’t be silly, it’ll be fine.” and “you mustn’t worry – it’s not good for you or your pregnancy”. So now I’m stuck feeling silly for worrying about worrying. Fun times.
I am also so, so sorry. This is senseless. It pains me to see you go through this, and I can only hope for a quick happy ending. Which I *know* you’ll have…
I love you too and think you’re one incredible chick, you know? Inspiring as hell. Your kids will be so lucky. xox
I’m so, so sorry love. It seems so completely senseless to me that you have to go through this. I’m just hoping for the happy ending, and soon. And, yes, you are inspiring as he’ll. Xox
“my body and my mind are inextricably intertwined, and I can’t look at the one without considering the other.”
…very wise words. Be kind to yourself and keep hugging those trees! It looks like you’re in such a good place, despite this shitty situation…and I’m sure when that poppyseed is ready it will bloom most brilliantly!
Claire x
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