Trying… to attempt to do something.
I am attempting to get us organised. I am attempting to appear organised.
I am attempting to go an entire day without crying. So far, so good.
I have managed to send emails, and invoices and general business stuff. This really doesn’t require much effort does it? I mean, I sit in front of the laptop and I type niceties about Christmas fast approaching and what not. I come across cheery in my e-mails. Job done.
I have managed to go through the diary and prioritise what is important and needs my immediate attention.
I have cleaned the bathroom, I have washed, dressed and fed M.
I have put the bins out.
I am now having a cup of tea. I am trying to be normal. I am trying to be Emily. I am trying to be Emily before loosing my baby. I am trying to be Emily before the nightmares. I am trying to be Emily.
I am not doing a very good job as far as I am concerned.
I am fearful the OH is getting tired of my crying, this probably isn’t the case but I am fearful non the less.
I told him I wanted to start my exercise now. I need to do something, he told me not yet. He told me I need to allow my body to heal physically, but what if my mental well being needs it?
If I listen to my body, I know the OH is right. I know I need to hold out a bit longer.
I had an email today, you know those types of emails you sign up to when you’re all joyous and excited about becoming a mum again, the type of ‘You’re baby is currently the size of *insert fruit*’
It was a kick in the gut. It was a reminder that I didn’t need. I know I am not carrying a child anymore, I have never felt so empty. The sickness has gone, the nice heavy feeling of my uterus has gone. It’s all gone. I am trying. I really am trying. I am going to have to see people on Saturday when I go to work, and then on Sunday when I partake on a course I agreed to do ages ago. I am going to have to see people and laugh and pretend everything is a okay when we go to a Christmas party. I can’t exactly open with… ‘Oh me? Oh, yes I am fine, had a miscarriage the other week but yup, fine and bloody dandy here’. Doesn’t befit social convention.
I have a few friends I have told, some have responded by showing me utmost love and patience and genuine loving concern, then there are the few that appear to be treating me like a leaper. I suppose it’s the not knowing what to say that makes people act this way. It’s a shame that miscarriage isn’t a very spoken about subject, it’s no wonder you feel crushingly alone at times when you don’t even think it’s okay to broach the subject in an open way.
Anyways, I am trying. Trying hard. Too hard? Possibly… Only time will tell.