I don’t know about you, but sometimes it’s hard for me to write a post about something when I have something ELSE kind of BIG that I want to tell you and can’t yet. Kind of like when I know I have a coffee date with someone later in the week, I tend to avoid them, because I’m afraid we’ll run out of things to talk about before we get together (silly – I know it’s silly).
Anyway, so my blog has been a little silent for the past month, and I’ll tell you the reason. I’m finally ready to tell you the reason.
The reason is that I found out I was pregnant in early August. Finally, finally pregnant. We’ve waited longer than some, and conception does not seem to come easily – we want children so badly. We love children. We love our nieces and the babies that surround our lives. We want our own. And I cannot tell you how overjoyed we were to finally see those double lines on that little pink stink and know that our dreams were being realized.
And so I know you’re “supposed” to wait 12 weeks, to get out of the “danger zone”, to tell people. But we rushed right out and told our immediate family…immediately. At, like, 5 weeks.
Last Monday, I hit the 10 week mark. I know, I know. You’re doing the math. Julianna, you’re still telling us early! It’s not quite 12 yet!
Well. That’s because last Friday evening, just about two days ago exactly, I lost it. It’s gone. I say it, because of course we don’t know if it was a boy or a girl. I think boy, but my sister thinks girl. And we’ll never know. Suddenly, quickly, within just a couple of hours, it was over. And all that hope and joy and anticipation went down in a (pardon the graphics) red sea of disappointment.
It’s so painful. It’s so hard. It’s so hard to understand. I don’t think we’ll ever understand, and I know we probably don’t need to. But we made so many plans and hoped for so many things, and it’s all gone. As my two-year-old niece put it yesterday, “Baby – all gone.” Kind of love how kids have no filter.
As painful as it is right now, though, I would not trade the last 8 weeks for anything. They were some of the happiest days of my life – I got to be pregnant, and people actually knew about it! I got to take a bump picture (with not really any bump, but the symbolism remains), and people gave me baby clothes and baby shoes and we arranged our baby room and we had so much JOY and so much HOPE! And I wouldn’t give that up. Even if it meant not having to go through this miscarriage, I wouldn’t give it up.
So this isn’t how you were supposed to find out. You were supposed to find out next Monday, when I posted the most amazing, most happy, most upbeat post I’ve ever written to tell you that I was 12 weeks pregnant, in the “safe zone”, expecting my baby on April 13 of next year. But this is the way that it is. And I considered not telling you at all, but Morgan pointed out yesterday that unshared, secret grief builds invisible walls, and I don’t want walls. I want transparency and friendship and openness and love. I want honesty. (Does ANYONE know Billy Joel’s “Honesty” song? That’s my life’s MOTTO. Listen to it.)
You don’t have to feel bad for me/us. There are plenty of people who do already. That’s not the purpose of the post. The purpose is to tell you. To let you know what’s going on in my life, because isn’t that, after all, why you read this blog?