Losing You
Every miscarriage story is different, this is mine:
In September of 2018 I had a miscarriage. I knew I was pregnant, I can't explain exactly how, I just knew it like I knew by not even week 4 with my daughter. I was waiting to take a pregnancy test until after I was late because in all honesty I thought if I took it sooner I would somehow jinx myself into not actually being pregnant. Then I lost the baby.
I can't even put into words what I felt, it was a crazy mix of sorrow, pain, loneliness, longing, despair, hopelessness, anger, & so much else. I can't tell you how much I've cried since then. I have never felt so low & alone & empty as I have with losing my baby. I was alone in grieving my loss (which is something eventually I will write about). In the weeks after I became so sad, I didn't want to get out of bed in the morning, I didn't want to go to work, I didn't want to fake a smile every day, I didn't want to function really. Every morning I had to force myself to get up, go to work, pretend I wasn't dying inside, come home & take care of my daughter, fall asleep, & do it all over again. Mornings were the hardest part, I would lay in bed until I absolutely had to get up & then & only then would I force myself out of bed. I soon came to know that once I got out of bed the day actually seemed manageable. Until one day it wasn't. One day I just couldn't deal anymore, I couldn't force myself to get out of bed, I couldn't talk myself into putting on my usual "I'm just fine" act that I had been doing. One day I just said "screw it!" & I stayed home, I called into work & said I'm taking the day. & I did because I really, truly needed a day. I laid in bed all day, I didn't get up if I didn't have to, I'm not even sure I ate anything that day. I did however do the most important thing I could've done for my own mental health, I called a counseling center & requested a session.
Therapy has been a tremendous help. I'm sad still, I think in some way I will always be sad. Some days are still unbelievably hard, I'm not sure that ever stops. Therapy has helped me work through my emotions, has helped me understand grief, has brought me closer to my baby. My therapist recommended writing, whether it be in a journal or letters to my baby or social media or really any sort of writing, just getting my emotions into words onto paper. Writing is a relief, is an outlet, is a loosening of the tightness of my feelings. She also suggested that I name my baby because talking about baby or him or her just isn't personal, it doesn't give my son the acknowledgment, the realness that he deserves. I don't know if I was going to have a girl or a boy, but what I do have is a feeling, a gut feeling. So I'm following my gut, I believe my baby was a boy, I was going to have a son, I do have a son. I decided to name him Wyatt James, a name that will forever be important to me now.
I decided to make a blog about my journey with losing Wyatt. How I felt then & how I feel now & how I will feel in the future. I'm doing this in case there are other women out there silently or outspokenly going through a loss of a pregnancy too. But honestly I'm doing this for Wyatt & for me. I'm writing about this all in hopes that it heals me, that it helps me through everything I've been feeling & will continue to feel. I'm doing this because it brings me closer to Wyatt, it acknowledges him, it lets the world know he was here, it allows me an outlet. Its been 4 months, 4 excruciatingly long & sorrowful months & it's only getting longer.
In September of 2018 I had a miscarriage. I knew I was pregnant, I can't explain exactly how, I just knew it like I knew by not even week 4 with my daughter. I was waiting to take a pregnancy test until after I was late because in all honesty I thought if I took it sooner I would somehow jinx myself into not actually being pregnant. Then I lost the baby.
I can't even put into words what I felt, it was a crazy mix of sorrow, pain, loneliness, longing, despair, hopelessness, anger, & so much else. I can't tell you how much I've cried since then. I have never felt so low & alone & empty as I have with losing my baby. I was alone in grieving my loss (which is something eventually I will write about). In the weeks after I became so sad, I didn't want to get out of bed in the morning, I didn't want to go to work, I didn't want to fake a smile every day, I didn't want to function really. Every morning I had to force myself to get up, go to work, pretend I wasn't dying inside, come home & take care of my daughter, fall asleep, & do it all over again. Mornings were the hardest part, I would lay in bed until I absolutely had to get up & then & only then would I force myself out of bed. I soon came to know that once I got out of bed the day actually seemed manageable. Until one day it wasn't. One day I just couldn't deal anymore, I couldn't force myself to get out of bed, I couldn't talk myself into putting on my usual "I'm just fine" act that I had been doing. One day I just said "screw it!" & I stayed home, I called into work & said I'm taking the day. & I did because I really, truly needed a day. I laid in bed all day, I didn't get up if I didn't have to, I'm not even sure I ate anything that day. I did however do the most important thing I could've done for my own mental health, I called a counseling center & requested a session.
Therapy has been a tremendous help. I'm sad still, I think in some way I will always be sad. Some days are still unbelievably hard, I'm not sure that ever stops. Therapy has helped me work through my emotions, has helped me understand grief, has brought me closer to my baby. My therapist recommended writing, whether it be in a journal or letters to my baby or social media or really any sort of writing, just getting my emotions into words onto paper. Writing is a relief, is an outlet, is a loosening of the tightness of my feelings. She also suggested that I name my baby because talking about baby or him or her just isn't personal, it doesn't give my son the acknowledgment, the realness that he deserves. I don't know if I was going to have a girl or a boy, but what I do have is a feeling, a gut feeling. So I'm following my gut, I believe my baby was a boy, I was going to have a son, I do have a son. I decided to name him Wyatt James, a name that will forever be important to me now.
I decided to make a blog about my journey with losing Wyatt. How I felt then & how I feel now & how I will feel in the future. I'm doing this in case there are other women out there silently or outspokenly going through a loss of a pregnancy too. But honestly I'm doing this for Wyatt & for me. I'm writing about this all in hopes that it heals me, that it helps me through everything I've been feeling & will continue to feel. I'm doing this because it brings me closer to Wyatt, it acknowledges him, it lets the world know he was here, it allows me an outlet. Its been 4 months, 4 excruciatingly long & sorrowful months & it's only getting longer.
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