Just over two weeks ago, in fact the day after I lost my job (crazily), me and my little family took this picture on the beach, we’d just found out we were pregnant. We had no idea what we were going to do, I had no job, no money. But we walked on that beach and we talked about our wee baby bean, chatted about possible names, decorating the nursery, telling the people we loved, we held hands and we smiled, laughed, cried. We were so shell shocked and overwhelmed. But my god, we were happy. Despite everything, this information, it gave us hope, it meant our little family was finally going to grow. Anyone who even slightly knows me, will know what that meant to me, to both of us.
A week later to the day, we were leaving the hospital after being told that we were no longer pregnant. In 20 minutes, it was all over. Our baby bean was gone.
You may well ask why I am writing about this, after all it’s barely been a week, surely I should be in a heap in the corner?! And I’m not going to lie to you, the last week has been horrific, it has passed in a blur of sadness, exhaustion, silence and trying to keep busy so as not to think about what has happened to us. And it’s felt like a hundred years have passed.
Anyone who has followed my blog from the word go, will know I started it after my mum died, I wanted somewhere to come where I could talk about her and my grief honestly and openly without worrying about upsetting someone or people getting fed up with me harping on. Writing has always been very cathartic for me. It helps me work things out.
So that’s what I’ve come to do and I know not everyone will agree with this, but it’s what I need to do right now, just like I did with my mum, in the hope that it may make me feel more normal, hell even in the hope it might make someone else who has been through this feel more normal.
All I will ever remember clearly from that day is the utter sense of sadness and failure I felt, it hasn’t left me since. The first thing I did was apologise to Chris, for letting him down, for not being able to keep our baby bean safe. Of course he was devastated that I felt that way and told me so. But I can’t help but shake that feeling of failure. I can’t keep a job, my body didn’t work properly when we needed it to. Even though I know that these things that have happened are out of my control, it’s going to take me a long time to get past that feeling.
I have never experienced silence like the last week, we simply haven’t had the energy to speak to each other, and when we have it’s been exhausting. Full of emotion and sadness. I’ve hated the silence, hated that it’s caused distance between us. But it was necessary, it still is. One of the first things we did when we found out was hold each other and check that we were still ok, being together was all that mattered. Sometimes you don’t need to say anything. We are so lucky to have each other, to have such a strong relationship, I remember saying the same thing when mum died and I held on to my family, that even though we’d lost so much, we were still so lucky, because we had each other.
Like any shit situation, it often helps you to realise how much you still have. I will never stop being thankful for the people in my life who love me, who appeared just when we needed it, who turned up on the doorstep, bringing hugs, flowers, and food, who sent lovely and thoughtful gifts through the post and who still continue to check in and make sure we’re ok. Like any time in my life when I’ve struggled, they’ve been a constant. They’ve made us feel like we will get through, reminded us that we’re still standing, that’s it’s ok not to be ok. To cry, to laugh, to do normal things, even when it doesn’t feel right.
Right now, I’m not ok, we’re not ok. Right now, all I feel is lost, scared, tired and angry. Right now, I can’t be anything other than that. All I can do is get up every day and take one step forward and hope that I don’t end up falling backwards. All I can do is be honest, open and sometimes silent. All I can do is try to process what’s happened. And I don’t know if that’s ok, if it’s the right thing to do, but it’s what I’m going to do. It’s what we’re going to do, together.