Tony is a little amazed that I just seem to keep going, pain or not. He says most people would just stay home… I suppose he’s right. But the thing is, I learned a long time ago that if I let pain control my life, then pain becomes my life. I’d rather have a life and deal with pain, than to isolate myself because of my fear of pain, or fear of showing others my pain.
As with most life altering things, I’m learning that having a miscarriage is one of those things that silently twines itself around the daily happenings of a person’s life. Of my life. It’s weird, because it’s like this quiet grief of which no one ever speaks. No one I meet on the street has any idea that at the moment I’m telling them “I’m fine,” in response to their standard greeting of, “How are you?” I’m actually losing a life I’ve nourished for 2 1/2 months, and a dream for which we’ve prayed for 3 years.
Today would have marked the beginning of my 2nd trimester.
The dreams are hard, and I’ve awakened more than once the past few days because I’ve been crying in my sleep. ~~ I felt like I’d been punched in the gut the other day when I saw a woman holding her newborn close to her cheek. ~~ I wanted to punch someone in the gut when, within the first five minutes of meeting him and his obviously pregnant wife, he made more than three comments about his wife being pregnant.
Irritable. Sad. Sensitive. Tired. Impatient. Cramps. Bleeding.
Yet, despite the pain — emotional and physical — I’ve been able to carry on a semblance of a normal life. I’m able to go to work, learn new things and practice my craft as an assistant. The people I work with are cool and hip. There are fun perks at this company, like free breakfasts every Friday, sponsored by the company.
Tony and I were able to have a great weekend together. Friday night, we went up to the local mountains and, Saturday morning, visited our friends (the cook & waitresses) at our favorite breakfast restaurant up there. Which also means we’ll think of them and our time up there for most of the week, because we have breakfast leftovers.
We drove down Saturday afternoon to attend a Honda-sponsored dinner event for the people who rode on their float in the Rose Parade. A dinner at a ritzy steakhouse, with appetizers, salad, main course (filet mignon for us, please) and dessert. The representative from Honda said they’d stayed away from having riders on their floats in years past, but now might reconsider that policy in the future because all the float riders this year were so wonderful. As a thank you, beyond the experience, memories and dinner, they gave all the float riders photo albums and DVDs. I continue to be so impressed with Honda corporation.
This weekend was also Marigold’s birthday and the Steve/Marigold/Huck/Milo Show invited us to join them at Disneyland. Our schedules meshed up, so we spent the afternoon at the happiest place on earth, riding kiddie rides with the kiddies and getting our picture taken with Mickey Mouse.
The best ride of the day was the Jungle Cruise, because I got this picture of nephew Huck just after we saw the hippopotamuses get “shot at” by our guide. He wasn’t pleased.
Grateful. Blessed. Loved. Grace. Amazed. Miracles.