When Seth was around preschool age and he’d get upset, we’d often try to sort out the matter by talking, snuggling and rocking. Once he’d calm down he’d burrow his face into my chest. (I know! Insert your own “motorboat” joke here.) In his words, he was “wipin’ ob-fff da ca-wi-yin.” (”Wiping off the crying” if you don’t understand the toddler dialect.) Once accomplished, all was fine. It was as if a dried face was the emotional equivalent to a clean slate. He was ready to start anew.
So last week when I found I had miscarried, I did alot of cryin’. And after having the d&c, I did even more. Emotionally, I just shut down after the surgery. I didn’t answer the phone or text messages. I didn’t do much emailing. And when my mom told me she wanted to come over on Saturday, I wrote her a stern email telling her she’d better not. I just felt so… empty and broken. Like I didn’t have anymore of anything to give anyone.
I have learned the hard way that when I feel utterly depleted, I just need to hole up in some room and be left alone for a few hours. Darkness, stillness and sleep usually soothe my soul. If I try to continue on with the daily chaos of life, that feeling intensifies and it takes longer for me to pull myself out of that pit. Thankfully, I have a very wise husband who understands this and gives me that space when I need it.
So last Friday night Marc came home and took care of our son while I had my alone time. After a few hours, I decided I had cried enough. No amount of tears was going to bring our Roo back. I know I’m very fortunate. I’ve got a healthy little boy, wonderful friends, family and readers, and a husband I’m very much in love with. And I’ve taken quite a bit of solace in those these things. I also realized I need to take better care of myself (less sweets and soda, more water and walks) than I had been before the pregnancy. Once my body is healed, we can try again.
So I took a page out of my little guy’s book. I “wiped ob-ffed da ca-wi-yin” that night and looked at Saturday as a clean slate. There is still many a moment where my eyes start to water and my heart breaks all over again. (Like yesterday when I received a letter from the hospital telling me where Roo is buried and a map of the cemetery.) I “wipe off the cryin’” when I need to then try to focus on the future. I’m moving forward, slowly, but alas I’m beginning to heal.
The support I received after this post was amazing. (Thankfully, the scary ordeal is no longer “scary” nor an “ordeal”.) But I wanted to thank everyone who took time to read the post and comment. So I’ll be thanking a group of people as a part of each post until I’ve thanked everyone. So thanks to: Mama Geek, Jo, Jordan, Nicole, Kelli, Jen, Isis23, Jenn, Laurie, Nancy R, Stacie,Amalie, Farrell,Imstell, Nonlinear Girl, Debra, Jessica, Candygirlflies, and Diana.