Sunday was the due date for the pregnancy that we lost in February. If you’d have asked me back then if I would have marked the day I would have said no, and in truth, I wish that the date wasn’t ingrained in my mind so that I could just forget it, but as it’s the day before my son’s birthday it wasn’t going to be that easy.
We decided that the best plan of action was to keep busy, to do something fun, something that symbolised how we can still enjoy the life we have. My husband is very much of the opinion that as there is nothing we can do to change the past we shouldn’t dwell on it, that moping around isn’t going to help either of us. I don’t think it’s that simple, I think about the miscarriage a lot, I can’t help it, I can’t switch these feelings off because there is nothing we can do about them. But, I know we all have to deal with things in our own way, it is a shame, and difficult sometimes, that our ways aren’t the same though.
I’m hoping that this day will mark some sort of closure and some sort of turning point, because I really do need to start feeling less sad now. As time goes on I find that more and more I miss the child that we would of had, that might seem crazy, but I feel that gap in my life and nothing seems capable of filling it. The more time goes on the more I feel I’m just going through the motions and I’d really like to not feel like this anymore. You’d think that it would get easier, but at the moment it seems to be getting worse. Maybe I need to investigate some sort of bereavement counselling – I’ll give it a month or two and see where I’m at then, feeling more chipper I hope.