Today has been the first day that I've actually started to process that I'm no longer pregnant. I find it a little shocking that I'm grasping it this quickly, because normally I'm extremely slow to digest things. I didn't even realize I lived in Michigan until about a year afterward--it just felt like a bad dream until then.
I've had to wear adult diapers (not really, but pads the size of my calves) for the last couple of days while things started to drain out. I took a shower this morning and watched as big (we're talking quarter-sized) blood clots dropped out of me and splashed on the bathtub floor. I've had them in periods before, but nothing like this. Four or five came out while I was in the shower and another dozen or so have passed since then.
The first one was surprising. I didn't know what to do, or if I should do anything, so I stood in shock as it drifted toward the drain. When the second one came out, I trapped it and called for Isaac come in and check it out. They were just so big! He said as long as I wasn't losing too much blood and my uterus was starting to "heal" itself, I should be fine. When the next one came out I watched it. I trapped it again and squished it, seeing it break into blood. Then I started to cry. I broke it. What if there had been pieces of our baby in there? Isaac heard me and came to the bathroom to ask what was wrong. I didn't really know though. I'm just sad.
I trust that God has a place and time for everything.
When we first found out we were pregnant, I was a little excited, but mostly nervous. What about finances? Is it time? What about insurance? Will this work? Then, when we sat down and looked at everything, it was going to be alright. Actually, it was going to be awesome. That was when I started thinking that this was more God's plan than ours. It was also when I think I started to believe that it was going to happen. That we'd have a baby in February.
Then once I finally seemed to get with the program, it ended abruptly.
Now I'm in the timeframe where I know this has happened for a reason, but I have to work on translating that into my life. Into what I do. I'd really love to bury myself in a hole again. Mom was texting me today and reminded me that I need to be careful not to allow my grief to carry me into a depression again. And she's right. I can already feel little fingers of it at certain times. I don't want to go there.
Tomorrow will be a normal day, because it needs to be. I'll get up, give a friend a haircut, go to work for 8-9 hours, and then head to Jen and Joey's house to hang out for a bit and enjoy some barbeque. Then Isaac and I will probably come home and hang out for a bit. Maybe start a movie and then get caught up in conversation, or I'll fall asleep on his lap. Whatever the case, I need to get back to life and not dwell on the sadness because that invites me to a bad place.
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