Three words we hate. There are things we say or ask that women who are dealing with pregnancy loss or infertility hate. Some sting and cut just a little bit deeper than the rest.

For various reasons regardless of age or size, whether we have living children or not most of us despise being asked, “Are you pregnant”?  The question can come from a random stranger on the street or from our closest friends and the wound is still the same. Most of us (I’ve been guilty of this myself) ask out of love, hope, and excitement, but it is not always received in love, hope or excitement. More often than not that question reminds us of our loss, brings about self-blame, reminds us of our ever ticking time clock and our uncooperative bodies.

In the last few weeks, several people have bombarded me with questions about my fertility and whether or not I am pregnant. If you love and respect people who have been through a similar journey as I have STOP asking if they are pregnant. STOP asking for updates on their fertility, if they wanted you to know they would have told you by now. Here is a small list of reasons to STOP ASKING.

• The person you’re asking may look pregnant because of a plethora of fertility medications that make you SUPER bloated, moody, anxious, nauseous, etc.
• This person might have been pregnant days ago and is going through a miscarriage
• There are other things in life to celebrate and be excited about that aren’t pregnancy or kid related, not every Facebook post is a secret pregnancy announcement so stop reading into things
• If the person is pregnant but is not in a place to share the news when you decide to ask you’ve put them in a very uncomfortable position
• If they are indeed pregnant but want to surprise their close friends and relatives, you have ruined the surprise.
• Pregnancy after loss is one of the most difficult and anxiety-producing things that a person can go through, do not add to that anxiety by asking people if they are pregnant! (last year’s pregnancy was a pregnancy after loss which resulted in loss so sometimes that anxiety is for a reason)
• Those three words can bring someone back to one of the most painful and traumatic moments of their lives, don’t be that person
• The person you’re asking could have just taken a pregnancy test that shattered their fragile heart because it was negative

People often ask that intrusive question out of selfishness because they don’t want to be excluded. When people are ready to share their amazing news they will, but out of respect and love, I advise you to wait. Wait until they are at a place where they feel at peace to share their news, and don’t get offended if they don’t. Don’t put more pressure on us than we already have, most of us are grieving our dead babies and most of us are dealing with the physical trauma of losing multiple pregnancies. I know that I am not getting any younger, I know that I don’t have living children yet, and I know I have a deep longing in my heart to have children but your questions don’t make it any easier. So once again, STOP ASKING.

This next part is EXTREMELY IMPORTANT: This post is NOT a pregnancy announcement DO NOT read into this. If you are one of the people that have asked or speculated do not feel bad just do better.

I’m the type of girl that LOVES planners. I don’t like putting things on my virtual calendar I like the old-fashioned way of pen and paper. Having a physical planner helps me remember important dates and it helps me jot down important thoughts. Throughout each of my pregnancies I wrote down dates from my Doctor’s appointments, future and current milestones, and I kept pictures of each ultrasound. After my last loss, I couldn’t bear to continue using the same planner I had and it made no sense to buy a planner in October.

2019 started and I could not come to terms with buying a new planner, the pain stung too much. So, for the better part of the year, I went without my hand dandy planner and I decided it was time. After shopping online, going to Walmart, Target, and Barnes and Noble I finally found the one. I bought a planner that I love and that takes me all the way through December 2020!

Although it is just a planner, for me it is much more than that. Buying my planner is a sign that healing is occurring; it is a sign that in that moment I decided that my pain would not hold me back in that area. Though it may seem small, buying my planner was a huge step and a sign of growth. I like planners and had put that part of me on hold, I am glad some parts of me are slowly coming back while others have evolved.

-JT

There are two conflicting thoughts. The one that you know is a lie but feels like truth and the one that you know is true but feels like a lie.

Oftentimes it feels easier to walk and live in the lie. The lie does not often require us to grow, believe, or to be challenged. The lie helps us be complacent and stationary. The lie becomes familiar and we choose to accept it as truth. I am not comfortable with that anymore.

Truth No. 1: I am NOT ashamed of my grief! It is not an easy topic to talk about and people sometimes treat me as if I am someone that needs to be “fixed”. I am not. I am going through the grieving process.

Truth No. 2: People treat me different because I am vocal about my grief and how I got here.

Truth No. 3: I will no longer let people’s comfort level dictate how I share nor how I process.

The truth may be harder to walk out, but in the words of Jesus, “the truth shall make you free”. Truth requires growth, movement and sometimes a leap of faith. Accepting and living in the truth may bring about elements of things unknown and take us places we never dreamt of. The truth regardless of how uncomfortable it may seem is where I want to be.

Some days are bad, some are terrible

The good days, well they are far in between

They have come with more frequency and with them so does hope.

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I have not been posting as much as I would like to but when I do I try to be as honest as possible. Is there anything about our journey that you would like to know? If so please leave your questions in the comments or e-mail me and I will try to address them in my upcoming posts.

-JT

Part of #MicroblogMondays Click here to learn more.

Grief is a pit that becomes your home, comfortable, familiar, your own.

But there comes a point when you have to learn to live again, taking baby steps again and again. Until living life with joy becomes your home, comfortable, familiar, your own.

Not that you forget why you’ve mourned, but you pack it away and every now and then you visit with your old familiar friend, you sit with her sharing stories and tea, and what once was a pit is no longer your home. It is something that you carry deep within your soul.

It doesn’t end there, for when you begin to live again every laughter will come with pain, every smile will want to take you back down memory lane to the pit that you called home. You’ll feel a pull towards guilt and regret, but you must learn to live again, live despite the pain.

Living life. Not surviving. Not existing. Living with joy, laughing with love, dancing with peace.

Life will become your home comfortable, familiar, your own.

– JT

I’m participating in Microblog Mondays if you’re interested in finding out more click here. 

Today I miss you the most

I dreamt of snuggling you close and kissing your toes.

Today is filled with memories that never were and will never come

They say be patient, but they don’t know

My tears are not because I am tired of waiting for motherhood

My tears are because motherhood came and it’s different than theirs

My tears are not because I am impatient for that which is to come

My tears freely flow because you came and left leaving a disastrous storm

They say be patient but they don’t know

I grieve the death of my son. I grieve the death of my son

They say be patient but they don’t know

I am barren but not infertile

My tears have nothing to do with being patient

Anyways, today like most days I miss you the most

I miss what I think the sound of your cries and giggles would be

I miss you when I hold another baby wishing it was you instead

I miss you in the mornings when I’d be cuddling you in bed

I miss you and my heart and my soul they ache for you my son

Every day I’m learning what it means to live without you

But now I live in a world where two “me’s” exist, the “me” before you and the “me” after

The second one has forgotten what it means to live… every day I’m one step closer

But not today. Today I miss you the most

– JT

After what seemed like an endless week Friday finally came and I went to see my doctor. Thankfully the bleeding had slowed down and the pain was responsive to painkillers so I no longer felt like I was dying.

SN: I gave a urine sample at the beginning of my appointment.

I explained to the doctor how I felt and gave her all the excruciating details only to have her tell me that she didn’t think it was a miscarriage and there was no way to prove it. She assured me that it was probably a heavy period and that I would be ok. She also asked if I was interested in birth control and I said no because even though we weren’t actively trying I would like to get pregnant soon. At that point I felt a little hopeless because it was as if my miscarriage didn’t happen and as if my baby didn’t exist. The doctor says bye and tells me to schedule a follow up in 3 months in case I need “help” getting pregnant. So I go to the check-out window and as I am about to walk out they ask me to step back into the room. The Dr. explains that they used my urine sample for a pregnancy test and when the nurse checked it was negative but she forgot to discard it. When she walked by it again it was positive which meant that either I was pregnant or still had HCG[1] in my system.

Hello dreaded bloodwork (more on this later)… in order to see if I was still pregnant or miscarried I had to do a series of blood tests to see if my hCG was increasing or decreasing. If it increased I was still pregnant and the pregnancy might be ok, if it decreased I miscarried. After 96 hours of waiting it was confirmed that I miscarried which brought on mixed emotions; relief because at least I knew and sadness because a baby that I never knew existed but yearned for died. At least I knew that I wasn’t crazy, and I knew that I could say with certainty that everything that happened was not “normal” it was a miscarriage.

Had I known it was a miscarriage I wouldn’t have thrown the tissue out, I would have tried to go to the hospital 1) For confirmation 2) For closure and guidance 3) For pain management. I have ideas of what I think the tissue was but I really have no clue…could it have been skin from the baby (I think the baby had been decomposing for over 2 weeks but I won’t truly know), could it have been a part of the placenta[2]? or I don’t know I don’t think I’ll ever know. . .

Looking back at that day I feel sorry for myself, I wish I could tell her to breathe and not be ashamed of going to the hospital for herself. I would hug her and hold her tight, I would tell her to take time to heal and to slow down, she was stuck in a whirlwind. To not just pummel through this because she might think she’s getting rid of her emotions but she is simply burying seeds of sadness that will in turn produce trees of depression, anger, self–doubt, isolation and fear. I would tell her to grieve. I would explain to her that what happened was a traumatic event in her body and her soul so she must treat it as so. I’d tell her to seek help and sometimes to seek help outside of the church (not outside of Jesus). I’d tell her that her body just went through labor and that those terrible “cramps” were contractions, I’d tell her to invest in self-care and that her and her husband needed to be kind to one another. I’d tell her that she’s a warrior but that it’s ok to cry. I’d tell her to buckle up because the journey had only begun.