It’s been 10 days since the miscarriage, and life is starting to get back to normal. I think the hardest thing about the first week was realizing that the baby was really gone. Since it was my first pregnancy, everything was new and surreal. It took me a couple weeks to even feel as though this was really happening, that I was really having a baby, and then it was all over too quickly. Today was my first day back to work, and I caught myself before I could text my husband “we’re here,” or “we’re headed home now,” as I had gotten in the habit of referring to myself in the plural. But now I’m back to just me, and I feel sad about that still.
In some ways it helps to get back to my normal routine, but in other ways it’s hard to go back to the way I was before I was pregnant. This pregnancy was supposed to change my life, and even though I don’t have a baby in my arms, I feel like my life is still supposed to change. And it will change. Part of that is due to the fact that I’m making some lifestyle changes to eat healthier and get more active. The other part of that is the fact that I was pregnant, there was a baby, and now that baby is gone. I can’t help but be changed by that.
Something that has helped me get back to my normal routine is crafting. Crocheting this blanket and participating in Tour de Fleece again this year have been great distractions for me right now. Watching the slow progress of this blanket as it grows stitch by stitch brings great comfort to me. Since it’s just single crochet over and over again, the process of making it seems very soothing and meditative. I find myself praying, thinking about the future, and filling up with hope. As I’m working on this blanket, I think a lot about my favorite poem by Emily Dickinson:
“Hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul
and sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all.”
Sometimes there are no words, and that’s why I like that I have this blanket to also process my grief and healing. I feel that little bird of hope perched in my soul; sometimes it sings, sometimes it is silent. But it’s there, and I’ve found that through all the heartache and loss in my life, I still am able to find hope.