As I attempt to navigate my way through pregnancy and eventual parenthood, I thought starting a blog about it–specifically, one that didn’t involve naked belly photos and recipes to kick-start lactation–would be funny, therapeutic, and a great way to pass the time as I count down the working days until maternity leave starts (20, in case anyone was wondering).
all three of my readers most of you know, I tend to not be too serious on here. I don’t want to treat this like a diary–I mean, nobody wants to read that garbage. The hits come when I am self-deprecating and sarcastic, anyway. And I’m cool with that.
So that’s why I’ve decided to switch gears (and forgo hits) to talk about something super depressing–miscarriage!
Don’t worry, this won’t be lengthy, explicit, or overly-personal. It’s just that nobody talks about it, ever. It’s almost as taboo as debating abortion and religion, and I’m not sure why.
I understand that death, pain and suffering aren’t exactly uplifting topics. But I learned the hard way that when you stuff your feelings deep down into the pit of your stomach and then pour alcohol on top of them, the result is a nightmarish existence of Biblical proportions.
I lost a baby this time last year. It was hell, and I couldn’t talk about it for a really long time. And I know this seems like another, oh great, Becca is talking about miscarriage again post, but if I’ve learned anything, it’s that if you’re going through it, there are more people out there who understand than you realize–so say something. To anyone. If I do nothing else, I need to pass that on.
In 1988, then-president Ronald Reagan declared the month of October Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month in the US. In 2002, the states recognized October 15 as an official day of remembrance, and it caught on in Canada by 2004. Currently, there is a lobby to get it recognized in Australia as well.
I know no one likes to talk about miscarriage.
So here’s a cat licking a lollipop. Enjoy.