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my bittersweet symphony
I had a rather tough weekend, emotionally speaking. I think that without realizing it, I spent a great deal of my energy reserves last week trying to act normal at work, telling some of the people I work with about the miscarriage, and talking about it with friends. On Friday I went to yoga class at lunch (which was a little strange, since the last time I went was the day that my body began to miscarry) and did a lighter-than-normal routine. At the end during stretching and meditation, I had the overwhelming urge to cry. So I did, as I was lying there trying to meditate. I figured, well, I guess I need to do this right now, and better here than at the office. On Saturday I had a little breakdown in the evening, and on Sunday I was just generally cranky. I found a blog, hipmama.com, that occasionally discusses miscarriage. This post, by Laura Moulton, describes her miscarriage in some degree of detail. I wish I could write this eloquently. [T]here are no neat endings. My pregnancy was a work-in-progress, suddenly interrupted. Miscarriage is unraveling, a coming undone, and though there is a point where things are finished from a biological perspective, there’s no telling when the rest of the process ends, or if it ever does. If conceiving a child is a leap of faith, so too are the months that follow. Things can go wrong, but there is also a good chance that they’ll go splendidly. In the end, we are left with little choice but to bless the one that got away, wish it safe passage to its next life, and forgive it for leaving us. Then we take a deep breath and start again. I went to see Dr. Burt yesterday for a […]

