A week ago today I had a miscarriage. I didn’t know I was pregnant and it was not planned. But this last week has really taken a toll on me. I chose not to do a D&C or take medication to progress it. I chose to do it naturally. I feel numb and so empty.
#Miscarriage #Depression
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Happy Mother’s Day to the moms!
Happy Mother’s Day to those of you who are hurting- from infertility, from broken families, breaking generational traumas, or loss.
1 in 4 women will experience a miscarriage- mommas, Happy Mother’s Day. I know it hurts.
If you’re like me, if you’re living with so many diseases and illnesses that your womb can’t possibly carry a little one and your number of miscarriages is so high it physically hurts to count… momma, I see you.
If you’re like me, and you’re absolutely terrified that one day you’re little rainbow baby might come down with all your illnesses and then what… momma, I hear you.
If you’re like me, and the doctors have told you to simply keep your IUD in because it’s easier than giving yourself a shot in the stomach daily to have the small chance of keeping yourself and your baby alive… momma, you are not alone.
If you are yearning to be a mother this Mother’s Day and it’s just not in the cards… hug your animals close, because you are still valid. Every emotion and tear is valid.
Today, I celebrate Mother’s Day as a dog mom.
Today, I celebrate with my 2 year old Bernese Mountain Dog, Beyla, at Cars and Coffee.
#MothersDay #ChildLoss #Miscarriage #Lupus #LupusAwarenessMonth
3 reactions Daphne has struggled with her mental health for many years. She was in an abusive relationship for years and experienced two miscarriages which left her feeling hopeless, depressed, alone, and isolated. Daphne shares her ongoing healing journey, what coping skills work for her, and what steps she took to work on her mental health.
Listen to the episode here: accordingtodes.com/114-2
#AbusiveRelationship #Abuse #AbuseSurvivors #Miscarriage #MentalHealth #Podcast
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I haven't journaled, haven't been making art, it's been -34F wind chill days of blizzards, the apartment we moved into had bedbugs and we've been fighting them since before Halloween. I legally lost my ability to drive myself and my 3 kids places with the idiopathic cns hypersomnia and epilepsy diagnoses. This time of year is tricky bc of my miscarriage at Christmas a few years ago. Our two bedroom, 850sq ft. apartment feels claustrophobic and the holidays were sandwiched between two of my kid's birthdays. With out of pocket meds, my expenses are bigger than child support. I can't work right now and spend my days in PT and to attend specialists. Basically, I feel like even with progress, I'm barely keeping it together. And then on December 16th, I caught COVID for the 4th time and I still have it. I am so tired and discouraged and I feel stuck. Yesterday, I finally had enough energy to try to draw. My hands haven't been working right in months, after the last round of seizures, so it made me feel pleased to see this little bit of peace on paper. #EhlersDanlosSyndrome #InterstitialCystitis #Fibromyalgia #ComplexPosttraumaticStressDisorder #majordepressive #Vestibulodynia #idiopahiccnshypersomnia #Epilepsy #DishydroticEczema #Miscarriage #COVID19
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today marks four years since my miscarriage. i feel guilty for mourning it because it was a ridiculously complicated situation. i actually planned to abort. the father and i were not in a good relationship. i was only pregnant for a few short weeks, but so much happened inside of my head during that time.
i remember fast forwarding through our future in my imagination, and seeing how we would fall apart and never be a family. i imagined how this would affect our child and was afraid of the pain i would afflict on them. i also fast forwarded through the future of my child, and the one thing i could always picture us doing was swimming. i had fond memories of my mother teaching me to swim, so i pictured myself teaching my own child, surrounded by the comfort of undulating water and echos of children's voices ringing through some public pool in my imaginary future. i weighed these two imaginings and decided the first was more realistic. i couldn't bring a child into the toxicity that was my relationship. the second was a stupid fantasy, i thought.
my health at that time was really poor and i was still undiagnosed. in fact i found out that i was pregnant because my illness took me to the ER. i was admitted to the hospital and spent a week laying in bed agonizing over what i should do. i had also been using drugs and alcohol to cope with my medical issues, which of course only made them worse and was dangerous for the life that had been quietly forming inside of me. did i really want to pass on these genes?
i made a decision. mother nature made a decision too.
the memories of that night are fragmented. it's mostly just nothingness infused with terror, and then there are a few moments that poke through, as if the memory-making part of my brain was coming up gasping for air in those moments. i haven't spoken about those moments to anyone, and usually not to myself either.
i put the memory away as soon as it happened so that i could move on. after playing and replaying the early life of my child, i now saw how dysfunctional my life had become and needed to make changes. i got out of that relationship and within a few months i took a better job in a city with better medical care.
most of the time it's almost like that night and what led up to it never happened. almost, but not quite. and every october it breaks through. there's still a little thread in the background that always tugs on me, love i could never give for the person who never got to live, never got to learn to swim, never got to feel the safety of mom's presence while kicking off for the first time. i even see a face, the same one i saw all those years ago when i would imagine us swimming. the face is from my imagination, yet it feels realer than the fragmented memories of what actually happened four years ago. and every october, grief over what could have been briefly eclipses what is.
given the complicated nature of what happened and who i was back then, i have never been comfortable admitting (even to myself) that what i felt was grief. i had no right to grieve. but emotions just are. they exist whether you think they should or not. and this one is grief. after four years, it finally has a name. i don't know what to do with it, but it has a name.#Grief #Miscarriage #PTSD
With the overturning of Roe Versus Wade, I felt compelled to interview women that have had abortions to open the conversation about these very individual and personal stories. I encourage you to listen to Kate's story with an open mind and an open heart, especially if you are against abortion.
Kate had a late-term abortion when she was 35 weeks pregnant due to severe medical issues and it being a very high-risk pregnancy putting Kate's life in danger. Kate's story is an emotional one but it's not an uncommon one. Kate shares the shock, grief, and fear she experienced when she learned her best option would be having an abortion for her very wanted and very loved baby.
Listen to Kate's emotional and powerful story here
#Abortion #Prochoice #prolife #antichoice #Depression #Anxiety #abortionishealthcare #griefandloss #Grief #Miscarriage
I lost a baby. I was 14 when I didn’t give my first boyfriend consent. I was 10 when my cousin started repeatedly molesting me. I lost a friend to alcohol poisoning and was with him the night he died, this person would’ve been my brother in law. My mother was an alcoholic and has been verbally abusive, narcissistic, and victimizing herself my entire life. She told me she should’ve aborted me and that I’m the reason we marriage with my father didn’t work. My dad was never emotionally present, he didn’t know how to be. I practically raised myself. My ex boyfriend was controlling and verbally abusive and tore down every ounce of confidence or self esteem that I had left. I gained weight, I hated myself. I struggled with post partum depression after my son was born due to a traumatic birth. My anxiety was extreme after this. I was terrified of dropping him, I was terrified of connecting with him. I loved him but couldn’t touch him. My daughter, my sweet rainbow baby is physically delayed. She can’t walk, but she sure is making progress, we’ve been in physical therapy for the last 6 months, but it’s hard reading other parents posts about the milestones their child the same age have reached. She only ever wants me and is always fussy. Are these things supposed to make me stronger? It doesn’t feel that way. It feels like weights that constantly hold my ankles under water just enough for my nose to breathe, but I’m slowly drowning because I can’t hold them up anymore. After I lost my baby I was in a depressive psychosis and almost pulled the trigger, but I wanted to live I just didn’t know how. My husband saved me. He doesn’t deserve such a mess of a human and I’m trying so hard to not mess up my children, to not let my depression take ahold and make it so I don’t get out of bed, to not let my anxiety keep me from them having an amazing childhood and taking them places and doing things. Gosh, I’m falling apart today. So I’m trying to focus on things that help. Yesterday it was organizing and avoiding snapping at my children and honestly avoid them overstimulating me with laying all over me, instead having them help me. My five year old sure felt special helping mom. Today I’m still on the couch, but their bellies are full because I got up to feed them, brush their teeth, give them their gummy vitamins, and they’re watching their favorite movie. Looking for strength, looking for courage, trying to find that happy version of me that can still barely see above water. It’s days like today that I wish my husband would take the day off and just hold me while I cry. Until then I decided to share my story here and a share a glimpse of what I’m feeling because getting it out somehow is better than not at all. Thanks for listening/reading. #MentalHealth #Anxiety #Depression #ChildLoss #Miscarriage #SexualAssault #Surviving
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