I have just gotten back home from vacation and boy, do I need a vacation! It goes that way sometimes, doesn’t it? The holidays are so full of rushing around that it wears you out! In addition to all of that, we just celebrated my oldest daughter’s birthday and I am just now seeing the carpet! That’s after three bags of trash, mind you!
My Mother-in-Law is off work for the Christmas break and wanted to take the girls off my hands for a few days. I gladly agreed to her gracious offer so that I could get some much needed cleaning done as well as rest and relax. It’s nice to have some time to myself. I have to admit I often wonder why I didn’t appreciate it as much before I had kids.
There is also another thing that I am doing while having time to myself. I am recuperating, and dealing with a loss. I posted a few threads on diaper swappers about a suspected pregnancy, and as it turns out, I was right. However, this past Friday, not long after we arrived at the hotel, I miscarried. I have never had a miscarriage before. Initially, I rejected the idea altogether and decided it must be implantation bleeding. The bleeding didn’t stop over the next forty-eight hours, however, and if that didn’t convince me the contraction-like cramps did the job.
There aren’t words to describe what I am feeling. My husband and I were not trying to get pregnant—in fact, we were doing everything we could to prevent it! We have two children, twenty months apart and our youngest isn’t even out of diapers yet! We can’t afford another baby, nor would I be able to continue classes if I were to add another child to the mix. I have spent the majority of this year losing weight and getting back in shape, and I didn’t want to lose that. All of these reasons were why we were trying to prevent further procreation, and yet, lying in that bed on Friday I knew I would rather have another baby than lose it.
Like so many things in life we don’t get a choice. I know my “baby” (some wouldn’t consider it that) was days old. My mind tells me that it happened for a reason, that it probably didn’t have a heartbeat yet, and still my heart hurts. My husband doesn’t understand my feelings, and though he tries to be sympathetic I wish I had friends who had been through this. Actually, I wish that I had never gone through it myself, truth be told.