… 417 days to be exact. I, the wannabe writer, struggled to write. I wouldn’t even call it writer’s block, I would describe it as writer’s paralysis. It’s not that I didn’t know what to write, I simply didn’t dare to write. A history of fertility issues and miscarriage left me in quite a superstitious state of mind.
Though, it made me feel like a blogging impostor – after all, isn’t blogging all about sharing the good and the bad – I wanted … no, needed good vibes only. Positivity all the way. I know how easy it is to give complaining people flack about “complaining” about pregnancy. Feelings like “at least you are pregnant” or “stop complaining, what I wouldn’t give to”. In fact, I have been more than guilty of this myself. This is a journal entry I made several years ago:
I am never going to become one of those women. You may know them, you may be them, those women, who suddenly notice all other pregant women in the world. Actually, did the entire world become pregant and exactly why is the entire world rubbing it in that my belly is empty? Those women, who can’t stand to look at their facebook anymore.
I appear to have missed the memo, did you get it? Facebook is no longer about friends staying connected, no, not at all, it has evolved into your friends’ personal baby book. Those women, who say “oooh congratulations” and smile when you tell them you are pregant, but then go home and have a little cry.
Yes, I decided a year and a half ago that I was never going to be one of those women. Flash forward to 2 months ago and I found myself walking to the store, suddenly wondering, where all these pregant ladies were coming from? No harm no foul, I’m not one of those women, no really, it was just so in my face. It’s not every day you see three random pregant women, now do you?
I get home, thinking about my empty belly, what else are you to do, walking by yourself? Time for some distraction and what better way to easily distract yourself than to surf the net? It’s not a big step from surfing the net to scrolling through your facebook’s news feed. My friends have been busy updating their statuses indeed: “she took her first steps today!” … “Look at his first tooth, so cute”…”7 weeks old today!”…I notice a few stings in my stomach. But no, I’m not one of those women, I’m just not feeling that well today, it happens.
Later that day, my husband comes home, he’s got amazing news! Must be a promotion?! Publication?! Curious about the big revelation, I wait with anticipation and am excited to find out: “My best friend is expecting a baby!”. I am ovecome with joy, until suddenly, I’m not… What is this feeling I am feeling? Why am I getting sad? Is that I tear I feel? And suddenly I realize, those women, I am them.
Paulo Coelho said it best when he wrote “We can never judge the lives of others because each person knows only their own pain and renunciation.”, so I don’t judge how I felt then, I was justified in feeling that way. Neither do I judge when other women facing fertility struggles find it upsetting when ladies complain about “being pregnant” and the issues they face. All I know is, I selfishly needed to go on a blogging hiatus while dealing with my pregnancy complications and with the odds that felt stacked against me. Somehow, I had the notion that if there was only positivity, I, we had a better chance of making it through another day, and then again one more day.
Now, 417 days later, I’m ready to tell my story. I’m ready to continue my pregnancy journey, for myself but also for anyone facing the same pregnancy complications I faced. The good, the bad, the ugly and, more importantly, my miraculous ending.