You know when you are so focused on getting back to normal that you suddenly realize that you are miles away from normal? From okay? That was me on Tuesday night. When I actually wrote THIS POST.
Monday was really hard. I did not realize how much I was dreading seeing the other mother in mommy-and-me that is due five days before I was in October. And there she was. She's missed a bunch of classes recently, so I hadn't seen her since March. But, of course, news had spread, and she knew. She came up to me after class and said how sorry she was to hear about what had happened. I had been doing so well, but I choked up talking to her. In an effort to get away, I mumbled something about how the whole situation is hard. That it sucks. I held it together for the ten feet between her and the shower, and used Banner's post swim rinse off to mask the ugly cry I had right there in the locker room.
Then, the next day, I burst into tears when Trevor said something innocent after dinner. I thought he was mad at me, but he was only kidding. And, suddenly, I realized maybe I wasn't doing as well as I thought I was. In that moment, I sat down and wrote the list of all the reasons I'm angry.
Honestly, I never intended to post it. But I've received all these emails from people talking about how strong I am for writing about my miscarriage, and felt like I needed to give perspective. Because these last six weeks have been a real struggle for me. For Trevor. For my family. It would be a lie to pretend that everything is all hunky-dory six weeks out. Mostly because I am not strong at all. I'm heartbroken and angry. And you know what? That is okay. After all, aren't all these emotions just steps in the grieving process?
So I made myself type out every.last.reason why I'm angry. The order didn't matter. I just let it flow. When I was done, I felt lighter. Twenty-four hours later, I reread what I wrote, and let Trevor see it. I asked if it would be a mistake to publish it, and he said it would be a mistake not to.
I slept better last night than I have in days, and I no longer feel like a ticking time bomb of pent-up sadness and misdirected anger. For me, writing down what I am really feeling is immensely therapeutic and liberating. As for posting it on the internet? Consider this blog my temporary confessional.
Thank you all for reading. For caring. It might not be today or tomorrow, but - as long as I have my boys - I'm going to be okay.