Waiting is a funny thing isn’t it. In our culture we have such a propensity to just hurry everything along. So here I am- just waiting. I’ve known now for over 3 weeks that I’m carrying a baby that is no longer alive; however, my body still has no clue. I still look pregnant, I still feel pregnant, with absolutely no signs that my body will be done carrying anytime soon. My midwives have given me full power in making any and all decisions I have wanted to during this process.
Here is what I’m learning- there is no right answer. DNC? Accupunture? Waiting? None of it seems “right” or appropriate. One day I just want to be done with all of this and move on with my life, and the next day I’m cherishing any days I have with this baby as I know they are the last. Most days I keep thinking; this is all just a bad dream and someone got it wrong. With everything layer we unfold the more we find. Guess what- it was a little GIRL. Man was I wrong, and SO shocked. I thought knowing would help me heal, when it just dug deeper into the wound of what could have been. Norah would have had a sister. Baby had no genetic issues, so, what happened? I think it’s easy to want to blame ourselves. This was my third pregnancy- I ate soft cheese, lunch meat, and sushi. I didn’t follow the rules, I forgot to take my progesterone- but you can’t blame yourself.