Wife to my high school sweetheart, boy mama to sweet baby boy Macrae, and two fur babies Shiloh and Milo, a full time high school history teacher, and overall enthusiast for life. Avid podcast listener, iced coffee drinker, and organized chaos manager. My passion is to encourage and inspire. To cultivate an intentional life, a life full of joy and an abundance of grace.
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Honestly, I have debated about how much I wanted to share, but the more I thought about it, the more clear the answer became. I will continue to share our story. Walking through a miscarriage is freaking tough. I would not wish this on anyone. The range of emotions, the feeling of not being in control, not being positive or confident in yourself, and just feeling like you are sinking all at the same time does not make for a happy combination. So, I thought I would write a little update, sharing all the things on navigating life after miscarriage.
The reality is, life after a miscarriage is so lonely and disappointing. As soon as you see the “pregnant” on the test, you immediately dream of every thing. I already had envisioned celebrating the season of fall being pregnant, soaking up the changing of seasons, all while preparing for the arrival of a precious little one March of next year. This week we would have been 12 weeks, and out of the first trimester. Except, we are not. Empty and still very much broken.
This past week I felt like I reached the deepest hole I had ever been in. Nights were hard, and the days even harder. I wanted to throw my phone in the trash, my work computer at the wall, and just get in my car and drive far away. (I told this to J, and he immediately responded, “I would miss you so much if you just drove away!” to which I responded – “you and the dogs would be in the car with me of course!”
I worked from home Monday, simply because I could not stand to be around people or deal with any interaction other than dog cuddles. Tuesday, I managed to go into work, faked a smile and worked through the emotional pain all day. Wednesday, I spent working back at home and literally cried through all my zoom sessions because I have never felt more broken in my life.
I have dealt with pain, sickness, and death before. I thought I was strong, emotionally sound, equipped to handle life’s stingiest of curves. Except for when I was not. Except for when I lost the one thing I never knew how badly I wanted. And now as we are embarking on finding a road back to normal, a road back to living life happier again. I have to remind myself that some days will be hard, and some days will be easier. But that doesn’t mean the hurt isn’t the same. That the pain isn’t real. Grief is a process and unfortunately you must keep living through it.
Fortunately, my schedule is very busy. Busy is usually good. Busy usually means distracting. Except for when the hurt in your heart is so deep that you feel completely incapable of doing any of those things. This past week I hit rock bottom. This past week I had a few thoughts cross my mind that hadn’t been there in a really long time. This past week I had to make the tough decision to step away from Pure Barre for a few months – to give myself more of the rest and grace that I need.
But also this past week I felt hope. This past week I felt like maybe days could be good again. Maybe the sunshine could feel appreciated again. And I realized this week how important it is for me to be honest and real with all of you. However many of you actually are reading this. The whole purpose of this blog is to pursue a life-well lived. And while that is something I am struggling to do right now, being open and real is a way for me to get there.
I had a long talk with my dad this week. He was worried and called to check in to see how I was doing. He encouraged me to seek help if I needed it and reminded me that he was there to talk no matter how painful the conversation would be. And I have made the decision to seek out therapy. That is on my agenda of must-do items for this upcoming week. Finding someone to talk through all of life’s emotions with. Cause I know I desperately need it.
The thing that I have struggled with so much in the past six weeks, is balancing grief, a broken heart and digital school all at the same time. Because you see, the feelings of brokenness I have felt recently, have also been met with an equal feeling of incapability to do a job that I am so passionate about. “How can I be here to serve and encourage my students, when I can’t even do that for myself?” That statement pretty much best sums everything up.
But again. Life moves on. The sun still shines. The dogs still greet me with pure joy and excitement every day I get home from practice. Seeing the faces of my students on zoom calls and hearing them say “thank you” after class rejuvenates my heart and soul. Getting to run at practice with my girls, no matter how weak my body feels, gives me hope for a stronger tomorrow.
Do I still feel broken, absolutely. Do I still feel weak and absorbed in grief, yes. Do I feel loved and supported and prayed for, most definitely! I am so thankful for all my people, and you know who you are who have reached out to check in on and send their thoughts and prayers this way. It is so appreciated.
Well, despite all the pain and heartache, and the overwhelming amounts of fear, J and I are trying again. If the miscarriage has taught us anything, it has taught us a few things:
And while we (most definitely) me are just as terrified as excited, we are hopeful for our redemption story. Praying and believing to see that next positive test. And even though (whenever that day comes) there will be just as much fear as excitement, I know that I want to spend every second loving on that baby’s life, whether it’s for a few weeks, or sixty years.
While I don’t know what our future story holds, and wonder daily if I am even able to support a healthy pregnancy, wondering if I will have to endure the tortuous pain of a miscarriage again, and if I will be able to hold a sweet baby of ours in my arms, despite all these heart-aching thoughts, I am holding on to hope. Holding on to the belief, the joy that comes with new seasons, and new life, believing that there is still a goodness inside the pain and a hope within the sorrow.
PS. While I tend to not shy away from my thoughts in sharing how I am feeling, I know many others keep these things held tightly to their chest. Please know that I am here for you and more than happy to talk to those walking through this or have walked through this. My hope is that in my vulnerability and pain, my story and my words can serve as a light to someone else trying to navigate through the darkness.
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