It’s been nearly 6 weeks since my miscarriage… wow, now that I say that It seems longer than I expected it to be.
It’s also been over a year since I started trying to convince my husband to have children. (I guess that’s the first form of “trying”)
6 weeks of ups and downs… 42 days of thinking about it… several times a day.
Physically, I’m okay… my OBGYN confirmed it.
She even announced that we can start trying again.
Emotionally and physiologically I’m not even close to okay.
Every day’s a battle, Every day’s a challenge.
Not many people know that it’s so difficult. Not even my mother.
I feel like a bipolar person. One day I’m happy, able to talk about it.
And able to laugh… really laugh.
And then something happens…
Something small, I see a newborn baby. And the whole day I’m miserable.
Or something big happens, a good friend announces her pregnancy…
And for hours I cry. After that I’m depressed for days.
I feel like I’m climbing a mountain, and when I get close to the top an avalanche knocks me back down and I have to dig myself out of the snow before I can start climbing up again.
All I can hold on to is what my husband said,
“Just take it day by day, and every day is another day”