This post was written back in August, I just never got around to posting it. It's going up today because I'm lazy and don't have anything else to write about. So no worries! Today is a good day.
I tried multiple times to write this opening without sounding like I was putting myself on a pedestal, and I just couldn't figure it out, but I don't want you to think I'm better than others and don't judge, because I'm definitely not and I definitely do. But anyway. The gist of it is this: we all judge other people at some point or another, and that's okay. It happens. But it isn't right to openly judge and think that you know their life better than they do, because more than likely, you don't (and obviously this does not apply to murder, hate crimes, or anything of that nature, because that stuff is actually bad). And it definitely isn't okay to do it when a person is clearly having a hard time in life. I've said it a few times when people have left negative comments on my pictures, but why kick a person when they are already down? If you don't understand what they are going through, why insert yourself and act like you know better than them?
I heard through the grapevine at work that a coworker overheard me talking to someone about my miscarriage. I hadn't shared it with everyone in my office, not because I was embarrassed or anything, just because I'm not super close with all of them, and didn't want to deal with more pity and puppy dog eyes than I already get. Anyway. This coworker proceeded to ask another coworker if she had heard about it, and then said "don't you feel like she should give her body a break?"
Note: this blog post is not an invitation to post your medical knowledge and tell me what we should or shouldn't do. I'm not mad about it, I just don't need my medical and personal life up for debate. Thanks in advance!
Now, I can understand where this lady is coming from. Being pregnant and then not and then pregnant then not then pregnant one more time and then not is a lot of work, mentally and physically. My body has been stretched and shifted in a lot of ways, and my hormones have been all over the place. She has a point that maybe my body could use a little break and go back to normal for a while. Trust me, I would prefer to have Carter at home and not have lost two other babies after him. I'd like to not be pregnant for a while too.
Actually, that might not be true. I love being pregnant. Anyway, I digress.
While she may have a point, she is not me, nor is she my husband, and she is probably the farthest thing from a doctor. She doesn't know what medical journals say about waiting to get pregnant after a loss. She doesn't know what my body is capable of, which I can tell you is a crap ton more than I ever thought it could handle. She is not the other half of my marriage, and therefore, she doesn't really get a say in how we proceed. The only three people that are involved in how we continue this journey is me, Brandon, and our doctor. And probably a few more doctors and specialists because why not.
I've had quite a few people ask if we are going to try again right away or wait for a while, and I can honestly say that I don't know. It's something we discuss occasionally, but we've never really come to a solid conclusion. Our doctor says we don't need to wait, but part of us feels like yeah, maybe it would be good for my body, but we want a baby so bad that waiting is the hardest part of this whole thing. We started trying to get pregnant at the end of July in 2015. That's a long time. I realize that some people have to wait longer, or even forever, but to have three pregnancies and no babies at home in the span of two years...that's a long time to wait. That's a lot of cat and mouse going on with our lives and neither of us really like it.
The other thing, is that after we lost Carter, we did wait. Some people say their doctor told them to wait three to six months; we got pregnant with little bean almost four months after losing Carter. After losing her, we got pregnant two months later (kind of intentional, kind of not). So the pattern shows us that whether we wait or not, we probably won't get to bring the baby home.
So this coworker. She doesn't understand the feeling that my body has betrayed me, not one, but three times. She doesn't understand that I am terrified to be pregnant again. She doesn't understand that I'm terrified that we might not ever be able to bring a baby home. She doesn't know how much I love being pregnant, and that I would give anything to be pregnant literally every day for the rest of my life. She doesn't know what it's like to lose a baby full term. She hasn't been there for the thousands of questions and conversations (probably literally, sorry doc) we've had with our doctor. She's not there during the many discussions that Brandon and I have late at night when we're trying to decide how to keep moving forward.
I understand that she doesn't understand, and that's okay. I'm grateful that she's never had to experience what we are going through. She also didn't say this to my face, which is why I'm not actually upset about it (and if you have said it to my face, I'm not mad at you either, just to be clear). I think that it's probably okay to ask questions like these, depending on who you are and who you are asking. My mom, for example, could ask me the same question as this coworker, and it's fine, but if the coworker asked me to my face, I'd be nice, but probably a little annoyed.
I don't even really know what the point of this post was, I just have a lot of feelings all the time and it's nice to write them down and hope that maybe someone will benefit them. I guess what I've been trying to get at is this: This is your life, and your body. Unless you are harming yourself or others, keep doing what you're doing. Do your own research, but consult a medical professional. You are the only person that lives inside your body and mind every single day, so you know it better than anyone else. Trust yourself, and trust those close to you, and don't let the outside haters change the way you feel.