Sad

Nine and a half years ago, I had a miscarriage. We were waiting to tell people that I was pregnant till the second trimester, so no one even knew that I miscarried. I remember walking around trying to pretend to be happy for appearances sake, but inside just wanting to cry. No one knew I was struggling, so there were no kind words offered, no hugs given--life just went on. When I got pregnant again, I decided I needed things to be different. I wanted people to know I was pregnant, so if anything happened to the baby, people would also knew that my heart was breaking. I remember the first Sunday after I lost that baby, walking into church. One of the bishopric members stopped us in the lobby before going in to sacrament meeting, and said, "I'm so sorry about the baby". I remember the flood of comfort come over me, knowing that this time I wasn't alone. This time I had support and love.

I've been debating whether or not I should say anything, but have decided that there is a reason we are told to "mourn with those that mourn". There is a great comfort knowing that other people know what you are going through. Eleven days ago I had another miscarriage. I was two days short of six weeks, so not very far along. But, it was long enough to plan for how our life was going to change. I had already planned out how Nate would move into a room with Aaron and Josh, to make room for the baby. I had already stressed about how I would have a baby right as Savannah, Josh, and Sara would be starting school. I had already dreaded the summer heat while pregnant. I had even started thinking about names. And then just like that, it was all gone.

And even though I've been through this before, and been told countless times that it's nothing I did to cause it, I still found myself wondering. Maybe I shouldn't have gone on that 5 mile run. Maybe I should have let Scott shovel the snow instead of doing it myself. Maybe if I had just gotten a little bit more sleep. Maybe...the list goes on.

My first two miscarriages where extremely hard on me. We'd had to do infertility medicine just to get pregnant, and after loosing two pregnancies, I wondered if I would ever be able to have a baby. Things seemed so hopeless. This time I have perspective, so it makes it easier. I have my five beautiful children, and I know that eventually there will be more. Perspective helps. But still, I am extremely sad. I find myself wanting to just stop for a moment and grieve, but I can't because the housework has to be done, and the kids have to be cared for, and the laundry has to be folded. I have to just keep on going like it never even happened. But it did, and I think I'm going to be sad for a while.