Moving on after my miscarriage is much easier said than done. I was just thinking today... if I hadn't of lost the baby I would almost through my first trimester. Instead of going for a check up for a miscarriage, I would be going to the doctor Monday for my first OB appointment. It's a bitter, nasty pill to swallow. Monday will be full of many emotions, none of them fun. Instead of my husband going with me and hearing our baby's heartbeat for the first time, I'll be walking into a waiting room of pregnant woman all alone knowing that my baby is dead. How does one get over this? Two years of dealing with fertility treatment only to have my dream taken away. Life is cruel and unfair. It simply is. I guess I won't be a mom in 2011.
Thayer said he thinks we should celebrate Mother's and Father's day. I have mixed feelings on this. I think this year it's going to be even harder than it was last year. Mother's Day is a difficult day... and now that my hope at becoming a mother is long gone... I can only imagine that it will be more difficult.
Someone else who is going through infertility treatments said to me "well at least you got pregnant." That's so mean and sad. Why would someone say something like that? Are we playing the "My life sucks worse than yours game?" Because I'm sure I could win hands down when comparing my life with many other people. Who would really wish for a miscarriage? In some ways, I wish I never would have gotten a BFP. The pain would be less for certain. I had my dream... and then my hopes and dreams were crushed. It's better to have hope (which I did) than to have hope and have it completely crushed. I've always been happy for other women going through the same struggle as me when they got their BFP. Why? It gives me hope. Yes, I'm sad for myself. I'm sad it wasn't my turn... disappointed. Am I jealous? Yes. But would I think for a second to hope that they miscarry? NO. Would I think if they did miscarry? Gee well at least you were able to get pregnant? NO. Just because you're pregnant once doesn't mean it will happen again... ever. Not when you're dealing with infertility.
All in all... I miss my baby. I miss the dreams I had for my child. I miss the connection I felt with my husband when I was having OUR baby. I miss that glow I had on my face.