I don’t really want to write about this, heck, I’ve not even wanted to talk to anyone about anything in the past month. I curl into a shell and become a recluse when I’m depressed…as I’ve been for the last month. Next week will mark two months since miscarrying, and some days the pain feels incredibly fresh and new.
It’s been a long time since I’ve felt as down as I have in the past month, so tired and unmotivated to even do the outdoor things that I love. It didn’t take me long to realize that I was suffering from PPD, but I’ve not really known what to do about it except to grieve and keep pushing myself through this. Friends and family have suggested support groups, but I just don’t want to keep rehashing it…I want to move forward.
With Declan, I was fortunate enough to avoid PPD, in large part (I believe) because my husband encapsulated my placenta. Placebo or not, I felt a noticeable decrease in energy within days of finishing my placenta pills…but that is a topic for an entirely different post. I felt wonderful after being pregnant for 9 months and, despite the insane hormone drop that occurs after childbirth, was in great spirits.
While I’ve not been diagnosed with PPD since miscarrying, I crossed the line from grief to depression when it took everything I had just to care for my little man each day. There have been days when I have lost patience with D, snapping at him and just being overwhelmed by it all. I know a part of it is because I just never had any time to myself, to rest, to heal after the 2 surgical procedures and 2 day labor & miscarriage I experienced in a two week period of time. I was traumatized and never really had the chance to process everything. I really needed time to just be.
I think the depression didn’t hit me until this past month because the first month was spent in and out of doctors offices, the emergency room and surgery. I felt physically unwell throughout it all and for weeks afterwards, losing 15 pounds in the process. All of this got in the way of me dealing with the fact that my baby had died.
Like the hormone drop after childbirth, I woke up one day a month ago feeling numb and wishing that I could stay under the covers all day. Thankfully, having an active 13 month old doesn’t allow for that, so I was forced out of bed every morning and went full throttle through the day. I was, however, going through the motions. I hit such a dark point that I felt the need to tell my husband that I was drowning and could barely keep my head above it all. Just the act of reaching out was incredibly cathartic for me. Once I had let others know that I was struggling, I began to slowly feel a bit better.
I wish I could tell you that I’m feeling great and loving life 2 months after miscarrying, but the truth is that I’m not. My baby was due January 24th, and many women (due around the same time) are announcing their pregnancies right now. It hits me like a punch in the gut, stealing my breath and bringing me to tears. I wish I could see a pregnant woman and not think about the baby I lost, the baby we won’t be welcoming into our family in the new year. Just recently, I was at MommyCon and absolutely lost it when they asked the attendees for a show of hands of people who had found out that they were expecting in March, April or May. I looked around at the women who were as pregnant as I should have been. I had to leave the room to collect myself in the bathroom. These intense feelings of grief and sadness come completely out of the blue and with a force I’ve never known. I’m covered in tears even now as I write this.
Each day gets a little better, a little easier. As I said the day we found out, I believe everything happens for a reason. As I get a little more distance from the event, I’m able to see the positives of not having a baby arriving in January. The main thing is that we have more time with Declan by himself. We’re able to fully take in this time with him, and I’m able to be fully present with him without the distraction of pregnancy. And, on those overwhelming days with just one, I’m thankful that D will be older and a little more independent when we do welcome another child into our family.
While my initial reaction was to try again as soon as I was cleared by the doctor, we decided to wait at least another month. Part of me doesn’t want to get pregnant again, as I’m deathly afraid of going through miscarriage again. The rational side of me realizes that there is always the possibility of miscarriage, and the odds of it happening again are not that great. I just don’t want to spend an entire pregnancy being afraid of losing my baby, and feel that I will be on an emotional tightrope when and if I get pregnant again. I don’t know. What I do know is that I don’t have to figure it out today, in this moment…