When I first fell pregnant with my son, almost 7 years ago, I took pregnancy for granted. We fell pregnant quickly and easily, there were no hiccups, no drama, virtually no nausea and everything went to plan as if a checklist were being ticked off. So after experiencing 3 miscarriages, to say I was nervous about becoming pregnant again would have to be my understatement of the year.
I’ve wanted to write this piece for a long time now. But I’ve not been able to start until right this moment – when I simply had to write it as it was… well, it was ready to come out. Right now, finally, I’m ready to talk about my third miscarriage.
Ever felt like you just had to let something out but you weren’t quite sure how? That’s where I’m at right now. Desperately feeling desperate but not sure what I’m desperate for. Confused, alone, tired and constantly on the verge of tears… thank goodness mercury is out of retrograde from tomorrow. But can I really blame the stars?
** Warning! This post contains an experience that may be difficult for some people to read **
My Easter sucked. It was meant to be 4 days away camping as a family, becoming grounded, breathing in that beautiful, clean air, getting back to nature and sleeping on the ground. Instead, I had a miscarriage.