Two Steps Up, One Step Back

A couple of weeks ago, I compared a miscarriage to having your heart broken, and the parallels live on, for me.

What I remember most from my period of heartbreak, lo those many years ago, was that I would be fine for days, or even weeks, and then...something would trigger my memory in an especially vivid way, and WHAM - I would spend a day near tears. It was like a gut punch when it happened. In fact, there is a certain song that, to this day, when I hear it, it knocks the wind out for a second. This, despite knowing my life has taken such a better path than it would've if that relationship had worked out. Even though I love my husband and son more than I ever even knew I could love something - that song can bring me back to that night over a decade ago, just for a second. Memory is powerful.

That's kind of where I'm at today. I've spent the past two days (B has been out of the house) spending some 1:1 time with my pig sty of a home. As such, I've come across a couple things I'd tucked away in corners after the miscarriage - my binder of info from my OB's office, the Bella band I bought two days before I found out I wouldn't be needing it...stuff like that. And it makes me sad again.

It's very much like healing from heart break, really, in that just like back then, I know now that I'm ok. That this happened for a reason. That life will go on and be happy. That I will feel better again, just like I have started to. But just in that moment - WHAM. Sad.

I know that having my heart broken made me a better person. It made me stronger. It made me aware of what I wanted, and what I would not settle for...or at least, it started that process. And I know the same is true of this experience. It's making me stronger. It's making me a better wife and mother. I know it is. Personal growth aches, though, doesn't it?

Explanations

"Well, we can't say for sure that this caused the miscarriage...but it didn't help."

That's what my endocrinologist said yesterday about the timing of the previously mentioned thyroid relapse diagnosis and subsequent (by literally one day) pregnancy. Explanations are supposed to provide closure, right? This one didn't. It felt like a self-fulfilling prophecy of sorts. I've spent so many years worrying that my thyroid disease would prevent me from having healthy pregnancies, and finally, it prevented one. Maybe. Probably.

Overall, I'm doing well moving on from this. It happens. It's happened to more people I know than not, in fact. So, I don't think this news really sent me into a tailspin or anything. It is what it is.

Plus, the other night, I had a dream about my grandfather. It'd been a really long time since I'd had one, but the other night in my dream, he was smiling and he hugged me and rubbed my head the way he used to, and he told me everything was all right. And I believed him. Because from him, "Everything's all right," is all the explanation I ever need.

The Corner

First of all, a happy 9th birthday to my oldest niece.

I think I've started to turn the corner this weekend. I think. I'm sure there will be rough days ahead, but this weekend, for the first time in a few weeks, I haven't had a lump in my throat constantly, and I've actually felt like doing something, anything, other than sitting on the sofa or drinking wine. So, progress. YAY!

Memory

This morning, I spent a few minutes in silence, looking out my kitchen window at the gorgeous, sunny blue sky of an early September day and I felt especially grateful that my big brother the New Yorker is around to offer me the love and support he has in the past week.

Not all little sisters of New Yorkers (or DCers...etc) are so lucky. So, today, I send all the love I can to all the people who still mourn, nine years later.

Lucky Star

So, yea, yesterday...wasn't a great day. I was feeling pretty down, and it was that kind of steely grey, occasionally rainy day that tends to push me right over the edge if I'm on it.

But then, last night, B had a bad dream and called me into his room. I lay down with him, and he put his hand on my cheek and said, "I love you always, Mommy." And some little piece of me fell back into place.

This morning, we woke up to a sunny morning. We were both overtired, but we decided to head over to visit E at work for a walk and some lunch. We enjoyed a sunny, breezy stroll around E's work campus and then headed to a nearby restaurant for a little family lunch. It's continually amazing to me how a little time in the sunshine with my two boys can turn my world around, even if just temporarily.

How do I know that E is absolutely, beyond any shadow of a doubt, the right person for me? His presence can bring me a sense of calm in a way no one else's can. Just being around him can make me feel better. Without actually touching me, it's like he is hugging me and telling me it'll all be ok.

So, yesterday was a tough day. Today is better.

In Between

The hardest part of going through something difficult is the in between. The time in between the first rush of grief and the recovery. The gap in between what you should feel and what you do feel. The to do's in between what you get done and what you feel like you should be getting done.

I'm generally a pretty upbeat person. I'm not sure whether that always comes across in the blog, because writing is how I process, so sometimes what I'm processing is the not so great stuff, but really, I'm a very grateful person, and I pride myself on offering positivity to those around me. But I do also occasionally struggle with depression. I guess that sounds like a contradiction, but I think the reason I'm so in tune to my times of depression is that it's such an uncomfortable fit, if that makes sense. I also have very little patience for myself, and my own depressive feelings. So, being in the in between right now is killin' me. I know that I went through something that sucks. I know it's okay to feel sad about that. I want to feel better, overall. I want to get back to my life. But I'm just not there yet, and it's driving me nuts.

Part of what's happening, too, I THINK (I'm...not actually a doctor or a mental health professional) is that...I was kind of feeling a little "off" and "down" before the pregnancy, and then during the pregnancy, some of that kind of eased, because I had something positive to focus on, rather than dealing with what was feeling off. Plus, who knows, maybe the pregnancy leveled whatever hormonal or chemical "stuff" is off inside. It's possible. I guess a lot of things are.

But what I know is that I am mentally ready to start feeling normal again, but I feel like there's something inside holding me back. Like...I WANT to get my ass back to work, but in the moment, it's like MONUMENTALLY difficult to focus and motivate. I WANT to get back into an exercise routine, but again, I CANNOT make myself do it. I know there are people in my life who would tell me just to suck it up and do it. And that's the most maddening part - normally, I would be one of them. I am definitely of the "no one can change your life except you," school. And yet...

I don't know. This is just kind of brain-dump rambling, but like I said, writing is how I process, so I'm kind of hoping if I write this stuff out, at some point, it'll help me come to some clarity. In the meantime, I'm going to write here, and I'm going to write in my gratitude journal and I'm going to fake it till I make it. Because make no mistake. Sad Sack Lindsay will NOT be tolerated, long term. Bitch makes me crazy.

Musings...

Let me start off by saying that I have absolutely no illusions that a miscarriage is the worst thing a person can go through, or even anywhere close to that.

That said, I want to say what it is like, for me, at least.

It's like having your heart broken, is the closest thing I can think of. I don't mean a run of the mill break up. I'm talking about that break up most of us go through once in life, when it's that person you think might be the person you'll end up with, and then they pull the rug out from under you and tell you that, in fact, that won't be happening. And you're just sad. Really sad. And then for a long time after that, every morning when you wake up, you remember all over again that your heart is broken. And there are times throughout the day that something will come to mind that you want to tell that other person - some inside joke or little story about your day you know they'd love, and you have to remind yourself they're gone.

That's what it's like. I wake up in the morning and realize all over again what happened. Every time I go to eat, I think, "Can I eat this?" And then I remember it doesn't matter anymore. And all the plans I'd started to make break my heart all over again.

But at the same time, this really sad, disappointing experience has made me feel so blessed. I'm blessed with a husband who loves me and truly wants to make me happy. I'm blessed with a beautiful son, who, if he ends up being the only child I ever have, makes me the luckiest mommy I could be. I am blessed with a family who is supportive and spent the weekend pampering and spoiling me (and looking the other way at my hormone-addled crying jags). I am blessed with a group of friends who have checked in with me and offered support in myriad ways. There is so much love surrounding me. It gives me hope.

And, as it's Labor Day, summer is unofficially over. And as sad as I am about that, because I LOVE summer, and have LOVED this summer with my little man, I also LOVE autumn, and as I have written about before, autumn is my time of magic. Wonderful things have come into my life in the autumn, and I know that will happen again this year.