In keeping with our day’s theme, I asked our Facebook friends how they reacted when they peed on a stick and found out they were pregnant! Three hours later, there were over 75 reponses… here are a few that had to be shared.
In the end, I told more people about my miscarriage than I had even informed that we were expecting another child. When the horrific reality of having lost my pregnancy set in, all I wanted to do was talk about it. I couldn’t stop replaying the events in my mind — from seeing that first blood drop to sitting in the waiting room of my clinic, surrounded by glowing pregnant women and their boisterously rotund bellies, knowing that our baby was pronounced dead just minutes ago.
The road taken when trying to become a parent is already long enough. You weigh this and that — a new house or a child? My wedding or the birth of someone greater than a piece of paper from the state? Cloth or disposable diapers, when should I start stocking up on either? And then there’s fertility: even if everything checks out fine, you still have a 20% chance of conceiving a child each month.
I had my first miscarriage June 21, 2011 at 16 weeks. My second miscarriage was April 15, 2012 at 11 weeks. I want memorial tattoos for my babies. I’d love to know what ideas you guys have for memorial tattoos, and what some of you have used in the past.
Apparently SOMEONE out there thought it’d be an awesome idea to turn What to Expect When You’re Expecting into a film.. and I went to see it. This is heavy on spoilers, and includes what I didn’t like, what I would change, and the part that made me cry.
The week before last Christmas, a friend of mine from work asked me to take care of her Poinsetta plant while she was away from the office. I don’t have the greenest thumb in the world, but of course, I agreed to help out. After all, how much damage could I do in a week, right?
That week, I had my miscarriage.
Needless to say, I forgot about my promise to water my friend’s plant and e-mailed her as soon as I remembered my mistake. My note said something like, “Sorry I forgot to water your plant… but I had a miscarriage.”
When I did a search about not being depressed after a miscarriage, I shouldn’t have been surprised that I didn’t find much. No one wants to be judged for not feeling the way she’s “supposed” to feel. But you know what? I really am feeling just fine.
Recently, one of my dearest friends told me she’s been having fertility problems for about a year. I feel really helpless and unsure of the best way to support her.
How can you be a good offbeat pre-auntie or uncle when things aren’t going so smoothly?