This is the blog post I don’t want to write and you don’t want to read. After you have read it, don’t respond. Don’t offer me sympathy, I won’t like it. You’ll know about this, that’s enough. If I don’t talk about this, nothing else I say will make sense. That’s the only reason I’m doing it. So.
I had a missed miscarriage. Neither of the two fetuses developed a heartbeat. We found out last Tuesday. Yesterday the miscarriage happened. It was my birthday, which was a bit poor. On the other hand, it was the only day this week that R could have been home. Swings and roundabouts I guess.
This is one of those times that defines a marriage. R fell and aggravated an old injury last week resulting in crippling pain. She is being messed around at work while trying to meet an impossible deadline. We are both at our limits, physically, mentally and emotionally. And yet what few reserves we have, we are giving to each other. At times it feels like trying to prop each other up with thin air.
What I do not doubt is that we will be sufficient. We will be kind with each other. We will step back and forgive. We will praise and reassure each other. The house will be messy, we will cry and get angry, we will misunderstand and hurt each other’s feelings, but beyond all this, we will keep on breathing and keep on loving. We will come through this.
If you have experienced a miscarriage or are looking for ways to support someone who has gone through one, The Miscarriage Association has some good advice: