3 Weeks Since...

It's been 3 weeks since I've miscarried. While I'm certainly feeling more at peace with what happened...I'd be lying if I didn't admit I still have my moments of sadness and anger.

Today should have been my 10 week appointment. It's written on our family calendar on our fridge (and then scribbled out) since they scheduled me for both 8 and 10 week appointments when I first found out I was pregnant and called the office.

But, while today didn't include a 10 week pre-natal appointment, it DID include spending the day with my beautiful daughter enjoying activities like exercising, playing, painting, running errands, and picnicking at the park. Not to shabby of a day...actually...it's a pretty good day, really! :)

It's the little things that I notice so much more that cause little pokes of sadness, anger, and dare I admit resentment into my daily life. Seeing pregnant women doesn't make me angry...just a bit sad. I wish it was me. I'll admit it. And, following the sadness is usually anger at myself for feeling sad. I feel ashamed that someone else's joy brings me down. I know that this miscarriage was meant to be, that there was nothing I could have done to prevent it, but it's still just hard for me to 100% accept it I guess.

Staring at my double stroller during my exercise class surprisingly makes me just a tiny bit sad, too. I had already begun picturing a baby in the seat next to M. And, for now, that image has been shattered. I feel like I let M down, too. I want her to be a sister. I know she'll be a good big sister.

Again. I feel confusion and shame for even admitting how those things bug me now. I know that this miscarriage is not a definitive end to the possibility of adding more children to our family. So, I don't know why I sometimes feel like it is.

I wonder how long I will think about this miscarriage.

Thoughts of second or third miscarriages also creep into my head during random parts of my days. Again...will the doubt and worrying ever end. I'm not sure.

When family and friends ask me how I'm doing, I still answer, "I'm doing good." Why is it so hard for me to say, "I'm ok. I'm still kinda sad about it." I guess it just makes me feel weak. I don't want to make things all weird. It can be awkward, that's for sure. But, to those who've asked me how I'm doing, please know that in itself has meant a lot to me. And really, I am doing good. Sorry, I know this paragraph probably didn't make a whole lotta sense.

And with that nonsense. I will end this post...and go watch some Real Housewives on Bravo. (I can't believe I just admitted to watching that show still...but I know some of you watch, too!!!)