This will be hard post to write, but I need to do it. I need to get it out and continue to heal.
In August of 2011, my cousin Amy passed away at the young age of 25. I was devastated. We were very close growing up, even lived together for a little while. Of course, we didn’t always get along, and for while grew apart for occasionally , it didn’t change anything. In fact, one day I was looking through my phone contact and randomly decided to call her to see if she had the same phone number, and we chatted for like 2 hours. We were cousin and friends.
Amy’s death changed me. My cousin’s life was cut short, and there were so many things she didn’t get to do. She had wishes, dreams, and plans. I decided from that moment, that I would not waste anymore time waiting for things to happen to me. When you want something you have to make it happen.
After this, I decided to start a family, I wanted to have a baby. It took a long while to get the ball rolling, due to the type of birth control I had been using and getting myself & Blake ready. In September of last year, after 4 crazy pregnancy tests I excitedly text Blake you’re going to be Dad!
As any first time mother would, I called the doctor right away! At 8 weeks I was scheduled for my first ultrasound, to say we were excited is an understatement, but we were really excited. Sadly, nothing came up on the ultrasound, the technician could see the “sack” but no actually baby. I’m pretty sure my heart stopped for a second. The technician told us that there was no baby and I could barely walk out of the hospital. How could this be. I felt broken.
There was a series of more doctors appointments, tube after tube of blood work, and two more ultrasounds. The whole time we were in limbo, we didn’t know if there was a baby or not. My hormones levels were super high, but then dropped rapidly. After 4 weeks of not hoping and praying that there really a baby, we found out there was definitely not a baby. I had miscarried at 6 weeks. (I ended up having a D&C.)
After the miscarriage, I wanted to lay in bed crying. And I did for while, but I knew deep down that if I didn’t do something I would end up in worse shape emotionally. I have a long family history of severe depression and have fought with it myself for a long time.
So I forced myself to run even though I was slow and would end up crying mid run. I forced myself to hang out with friends, even though I cried when I held my friend’s baby. I worked out, tried out recipes, visited the library….anything to help me try to gain a routine.
I threw myself in to weight loss, and I credit how far I’ve come to that moment. In this moment, and maybe still to this day, I felt like this happened because I was over weight and unhealthy. It had to be my fault, I knew it. So I promised myself to be as healthy as possible whenever “next time” came.
Now I am so thankful, that I was able to turn things around, I lost another 20 pounds. I made fitness my hobby. I changed. I wouldn’t have gotten this opportunity if I had the baby.
That doesn’t change the fact that It still hurts me that I am not a mom. Today is May 17. The day my baby was due. To tell you the truth, I’m a little mad. The last few weeks have been seriously hard. Friends have had baby showers, my sister-in-law and brother had a baby (due only the day before me). And I am so happy for them. Its just hard to watch what could have been unfold.
I thought by now I would be pregnant again and happily waiting for my baby’s arrival but of course it didn’t pan out that way. I also thought I’d be down to 160 lbs by now, so that I would know deep down that its not my fault, and I’m not. The two things together have made the last few weeks so hard. And probably the reason why I’ve struggled to commit to my weight loss. Expectations have a funny way of slapping you in face, don’t they?
I’m at the point where I want a baby so bad, but I’m not where I need to be physically and I don’t know what to do about it. But I know that writing this will help me. Writing this is letting some of my tears and fears outs.
We just have to take it one day at a time. That’s all it takes to survive.