Thursday, March 6, 2014
A friend asked me how I was doing today. I am sure she was just generally asking how I was but the words lept out of me, a longing to share my burden..."My baby was due this week, so that's been kind of hard." She put her arm around me and expressed her sympathy. She asked what the exact due date was. I had to think for a minute. I had tried not to allow myself to set my mind on an exact due date (having your first baby 12 days late will teach you the great flaw in setting your heart on a due date when you know you don't want to be induced). "Today" I said. March 6th was the due date that my midwife had given me. Wow. That sunk in as I said it out loud. Today I would be 40 weeks pregnant if I hadn't lost my baby. I have been trying to process this all day and all week. How should I feel about this? Should I be more sad than I am? Should I not be as sad as I am? I'm not sure. I know there isn't a "right" way for me to be feeling. It is what it is. Instead of being 40 weeks, I am almost 9 weeks. Being pregnant again dose help to ease the pain, but it doesn't take it away. It helps me to feel hopeful and not self pity. I wouldn't usually tell people so early on in a pregnancy but I have decided if I lost this baby, I would probably post about it on my blog anyways. The idea of waiting until you are in the second trimester to tell people you are pregnant has lost its meaning for me.