Last Thursday Part Three

Getting Back to Normal

Thursday also marked the return of my periods following the miscarriage. The last time I was in this situation I remember it feeling like a positive experience, like I was healing. But there was room for such flowery thoughts that time around – we were on holiday wandering around ancient stone circles in Scotland. The experience this time was the opposite, I felt completely and utterly miserable and overwhelmed by life, I wanted to be alone, I wanted to curl up in a ball and cry, but I didn’t have the luxury of that (maybe that’s a good thing, I don’t know). So yes, we can officially try again now if we want. If. I don’t know that I’m ready to go through all that again, and right now I just can’t seem to imagine any other outcome.

The first three months of the year just feel like a dream to me now. I was dreaming that I was pregnant again and although I felt rough, I just had to hang on in there and everything would be wonderful. The four of us. I had an inkling this one was a little girl. There were names running through my head; Martha, Ellathea, Elsie… vague ideas about nursery décor, I bought a toy owl for her when we were in Centre Parcs on holiday. I was starting to get excited, almost to 12 weeks without any bleeding. Almost there… Then I woke up and there was no baby, just aching disappointment that it hadn’t been real.

Sometimes my breath catches and I realise I should be however many weeks pregnant by now, only I’m not and it crushes me momentarily. I might shed a tear or two before I take a deep breath, then my toddler takes my hand and leads me off to play with him and I have to push it aside again. No time to dwell. Probably for the best.

But you were real little Peanut, and I have proof that you existed …