When You Think You’re OK

I have spent a lot of time working on myself since my last miscarriage.  I’ve spent time working on changing my physical self, by losing weight, colouring my hair, and getting a tattoo.  I have also spent a ton of time on my emotional self.  I think that grief inspires change, and I’ve been doing a lot of that over the past few months.

I kind of wanted to focus on a topic today that I have been thinking about a lot.  I don’t have all the answers, in fact, I don’t think I really have any, but I’m definitely struggling with this.

I’ve worked so hard to be OK, to be strong, to have moved past the traumatic experience of a second miscarriage.  Most days, I feel okay.  But unfortunately, there’s no way to escape the reminder of loss.  There are children everywhere, babies everywhere, pregnant women everywhere.  For me, catching sight of a woman who is expecting a baby is like being doused with a bucket of ice water; it reminds me that I’m not pregnant, when I should be.

It’s especially hard when every second day there is a pregnancy announcement on Facebook.  I might be having a good day, and then another cute, unexpected announcement suddenly appears on my feed.  Usually after that I have a little meltdown.  It happens frequently enough that my hubby is starting to lose patience with me.

So how does one deal?  When you feel OK most of the time, but then can’t help but lose it when someone else announces their happy news?

Here are the few tips I have been trying to implement myself:

  • Remember that their journey is different from yours.  That is not your life, that is not your baby, it was not meant for you.
  • Try not to attach meaning to things/events where there is no meaning.  I recently had a positive pregnancy test on my birthday, which was a year after my first miscarriage.  I remember thinking “It’s a birthday miracle!” ”
    Sadly, I started bleeding the next day and so realized it was another chemical pregnancy (a very early miscarriage).  I know it’s not the most positive thought, but sometimes attaching meaning to an event just makes it hurt more.
  • Finally, try to remain hopeful.  Remind yourself that infertility is a season.  You don’t know how long it will last, but hopefully someday there will be a baby in your arms.  I find hope a hard thing to cling to, especially as I am not very religious.  But in these situations, there has to be at least a small thread of hope.

I know these aren’t concrete answers that will fix everything, but it’s what I’m trying to focus on when I’m feeling not so okay.  What are some of the ways you deal?

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