I think it’s safe to say that 2020 didn’t exactly go as planned and by the time the year was over, 2021 felt like a fresh start. While we weren’t exactly out of the woods with the pandemic, there was hope for a light at the end of the tunnel. Here in Ontario, that tunnel seemed to get a little longer as months in lockdown continued to pass by, but overall, the heaviness of the previous year was slowly lifting.
Turns out, 2021 isn’t really going as planned either. To be honest, I’m not even really sure I went into this year WITH a plan but I know that writing this blog definitely wasn’t part of it. Even though I’ve been sharing pieces of my life on the internet for the last 15 years or so, being vulnerable with how I’m REALLY feeling and what I’m actually going through is not usually something I do. So while this is a little foreign to me, reading and listening to these types of experiences from others has made me feel somehow better and a little less intimidated to open up and share myself.
SO… Here goes..
Mid March of this year, we found out we were pregnant. My partner and I finally decided sometime at the end of 2020 that we were open to this new chapter of our lives, so having it happen so quickly came with a whirlwind of emotions. Never having been down this path before, I always wondered if we’d be able to conceive easily or if I could conceive at all .. So I was instantly relieved and grateful and excited and nervous all at the same time. It’s wild how suddenly consumed I felt with this news and how nothing else mattered but learning how to take on this new adventure. I don’t know if it’s part of some biological clock but it was as if my brain and emotions automatically reprioritized everything to make room for this new life.
That entire week was a blur. I quickly learned more than I’d ever known about pregnancy through any site I could find, bought the classic “What to Expect When You’re Expecting” book for some light reading over the next 9 months, I even bought a few baby clothes because quite frankly, I just couldn’t help it. But just as quickly as our life changed paths, my body decided it wasn’t time, and it was as if we were snapped back to life before anything ever changed.
To say I was sad is an understatement. I don’t think I’ve ever actually felt as sad I felt the day I knew for sure this wasn’t a viable pregnancy. I try to make myself feel better by reminding myself how early it was (just over 5 weeks), that I couldn’t have done anything at that point to prevent it from happening, and that miscarriages are so much more common than it often seems… but to create a new reality and then have it suddenly ripped away …was absolutely devastating.
The kicker after going through that emotional roller coaster, is continuing normal life afterwards.. almost as though nothing happened. It began and ended so quickly that I hadn’t really had a chance to tell anyone anything, so for the most part my boyfriend and I silently navigated the following weeks, healing together. If there was anything I learned between the time of my first positive home pregnancy test to the day I finally felt back to myself after our loss, is that my partner is going to be the greatest and most supportive partner/husband/father I ever could have asked for. So, as my body started to feel back to normal, I knew that we would try again as soon as we could. Just because it didn’t happen yet, didn’t mean it wouldn’t, just meant our timeline was off.
Fast forward to the last day of May and a fresh new big fat positive home pregnancy test. This felt surreal and suddenly the previous few months just felt like a bad dream that was melting away. I was wary to get too ahead of myself but also felt cautiously optimistic and excited. March was still fresh in my mind but this felt like a new beginning, or rather like we were resuming the chapter we had previously tried to start. While I felt like surely nothing would go wrong this time, I also felt like if, on the off chance it didn’t stick a second time, like I’d be ready for it.
Spoiler alert. It didn’t stick for a second time which, surprise surprise, I wasn’t ready for. I cried while the doctor went over everything with me. I cried walking through hospital. I cried outside of the hospital. I cried in my boyfriend’s arms. I cried when I got home. And sometimes I still randomly cry.
I only shared what happened with a select few friends. My baby sister knew about the first one. My other sister knew about the second one. But for some reason I wasn’t sure if I wanted to tell my parents. There were a few times where I just wanted my mom. I can safely say that in my adult life, I’ve been able to navigate most tough things pretty independently, but this was one of the few that I felt like mom really would make everything better. But it actually took me a few weeks to finally talk to her about it. My parents don’t have any grandkids yet. Actually neither do my boyfriend’s parents. This would have been their first and I KNOW, that both sides of our families are waiting. But I didn’t want their first grandchild experience to be one of loss. Twice. As much as I wished I could have given my parents different news, sharing this with my mom definitely lifted some of the weight of the experience.
Today. I am healing. Physically, I feel like I’m 99% back to myself. Emotionally, probably about the same. If I think about it too much, I feel sadness. Still the saddest sad I’ve probably ever felt. But I know that I’ll be okay. That we’ll be okay. I know in my heart, we’ll grow a family someday soon, but my body, for whatever reason, wasn’t ready for it yet. I’m eager to find some answers with my doctor so that maybe next time we might have different results, but am also giving myself time to revisit the possibility.
No one imagines loss to be part of their story when they start the process of growing a family, but the reality is that 1 in 4 pregnancies end in miscarriage. Nobody expects to be that 1. I didn’t expect to be that 1. Let alone twice. This year. Ever. And as much as I didn’t ever expect this, I wasn’t even sure I would share it when it happened. After the first one, I wanted to focus my efforts on trying again so that we could find a happy ending out of it all. After this second one I realized that part of my strength getting over this came from other women who were open enough to share their experiences. I’m not sure when you’ll read this, because I’m not entirely sure when I’ll be ready to share.. But if you’re reading this and going through it, I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. This was not a club any of us asked to be part of, but know that you’re not alone.
Though it’s been a heavy few months, I’m doing my best not to dwell on what’s happened. I’m thankful that each of my experiences has been as early as they were. I wouldn’t wish loss in any form on anyone, ever, and my heart goes out to women who experience this at any stage of pregnancy.
I’m thankful that we’ve been able to get pregnant easily. I know for some, just getting to that positive test is a journey in itself and I can’t even imagine the patience and strength that takes. If this is you, know you are strong and you’ve got this. ❤
Finally. I’m thankful for everything I’ve learned through all this. About this whole process. About my partner. About myself. Definitely not my preferred learning method but I know that the universe generally works in strange ways so. I guess I should let it work.
Anyways. Like I said, 2021 hasn’t exactly gone as planned so far. I have so many more emotions and thoughts I’m not sure I can fit into any more words (or if any of these words actually make much sense), so I’ll leave this one here. My inbox/DM’s are open. Talking about this to a few people in my innermost circle has helped me heal, but also like I said, reading about or listening to other women’s similar experiences has made me feel less alone. Even when I try to make it seem like “it wasn’t that bad” because it was “so early,” it’s helped to remind me that my feelings, emotions and experiences are valid.
Also, if you made it this far. Thank you. ❤