This should have been written yesterday, but I didn’t quite get round to writing it so I will have to do two today 😊
Today’s prompt is remembering.
I’m not great exactly remembering what I did while pregnant. I know a few things, like the day trip where the car broke down, and going apple picking on a farm, but I didn’t know then I was carrying Emmet. I just knew after I found out, that is what I had done.
I had some suspicions, I took a test and the three days between knowing and loosing are all a bit of a blur now. I forgot a lot of things from then in my grief. Like making the shoes until I found them again at Christmas.
I remember the pain. I remember trying to deny what I was seeing and I remember the guilt.
I remember thinking I hadn’t told anyone so it was like it didn’t happen, but it did and I couldn’t stop remembering. I remember thinking I could carry on as normal so I went to work the day after the bleeding started, pretending it wasn’t happening.
I remember telling my partner, but I don’t really remember much of the day after we had that talk.
I don’t remember after, when it sunk in my life sort of started spinning, and I can’t put it all right in my head.
But I do know I will remember them. I will always remember Emmet.
I remember the love, and I was scared if it. I remember having no idea what the the hell I was going to do. I temember thinking I didn’t deserve them, felt for a long time like I’d failed them before I began, even more so when I admited to myself I was loosing them. I felt like I hadn’t wanted them enough for them to stay. I thought it was my fault, that somehow I had snuffed out that little flame.
I remember feeling silly for being so happy about having a baby, even though I also felt scared, and had no idea what I was doing. But then, does anyone.
From what I have witnessed so far 90% of adulting seems to be googling what to do, and pretending you know what life is, until you figure out what is actually going on enough to get it together properly. Fake it till you make it basically.
All I do is remember.
I wake up I remember, I think about them all the time, Emmet spins around my mind. I don’t mind, I like them there.
I’m not sure what I thought about before them. I don’t stress so much about the little things, such as loosing scissors, or smudged nail polish and bad hair days. For a long time my mentality was ‘who gives a shit’. My baby is dead. My hair can take the back seat.
I don’t feel as much like that as I did, but I will admit that this summer I should perhaps start making more of an effort, and stop using grief as a crutch to keep leaning on to avoid bothering with anything.
I need to kick myself up the butt a bit I suppose. It doesn’t mean I should forget them. I will remember them for the rest of my life, but I know I need to at least try to move forward.
I will always try to remember, and to honor them, and I will do my best not to get bogged down in the bad memories, and ficus on the happy ones, because sometimes I worry they might swallow me whole.
Love and support always,
Surviving Miscarriage Together x