July 10, 2012 § Leave a comment

Today was a good day.

Although it started with tears (I watched the Huggies ‘It Must Be Love’ commercial about six times and cried quietly in bed for about 3 minutes), I felt more alive health-wise and set about getting out of the house. Today was the first time I left the house by myself since before the miscarriage. It has been slowly occurring to me that if my pregnant stay-at-home girlfriend plans have failed, then I should probably think about getting another job. This hit home when I rang the bank to discuss restructuring my loan repayments – they were somewhat confused at my situation – no income, no job, no real plans. I would need to produce a medical certificate to prove that my work related stress was affecting my health. I’ve thought a lot about stress and my miscarriages.

I always seem to get distracted with online trawling for information about miscarriages. Today I read about the statistics on healthy pregnancies after one, two and three miscarriages. My partner and I will try again and sooner rather than later. I have the strength to endure another miscarriage – it just gets harder and harder to be positive. This time we’ll be going even more to the book – preparing ourselves pre-pregnancy, getting as healthy as possible, ensuring we’ve got shit a little bit more sorted. And we’ll go down this path once again.

I finally left the house to run errands – bank, post office, Council offices, Inland Revenue – I was shattered after just an hour of driving around, parking, walking, waiting, talking. I realised that I didn’t want to see anyone I knew, and I walked with my eyes down. I started getting hot flashes by the time I got to my last stop and I needed to get home.

I didn’t do my hair when I left the house, and I couldn’t be bothered with make-up. I caught a glimpse of myself around lunchtime… it was a bit scary. I had a lovely pregnancy glow two weeks ago – my skin looked so healthy and light. My nails were strong and for the first time in my life I was growing them and painting them and loving it. Two days after leaving hospital last week, my nails started to crack and become brittle. Being some of the coldest days of the year, my lips have become chapped and sore. With the sleeplessness and flu, cold sweats and tears, the bags under my eyes have become pretty serious. I looked old and run down. It was quite a depressing sight.

I looked through job advertisements in the afternoon – wondering what it is that I want to do. I think losing Rèmy has made me re-evaluate my life with a perspective I had never considered before. For this I’m grateful.

I ran out to get a few things for dinner and drove home in the direction of a beautiful orange sunset. I cried. Again. But I was OK. Just ‘process tears’… they aren’t weakness, or falling apart, they’re just the residual pain, hurt and grief which sit around the edge of my life – every breath, every minute, every day.

Today was a good day.


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