Story of #miscourage by Anonymous,
I once read that pregnancy after miscarriage was like balancing along a cliff, never knowing when you were going to fall off. I think this is an excellent way to describe it....
My first pregnancy was a skip and a dance around a beautiful, sunny meadow. My heart was light and full of excitement. I was aware that there was a cliff somewhere nearby but thought I would never go near it and I didn't.
My next pregnancy I started off frolicking in the meadow again, my 7 week scan was perfect and I had almost forgotten that the cliff even existed. Then a sudden gust of wind and there was the cliff edge, I spent 5 hours balancing on the edge, too scared to look down, before the ground crumpled beneath me and they told me my baby was gone.
We all know that the cliff exists but no one tells you what's it's like to fall over the edge. The fall is awful, you get battered and bruised on the way down. At the bottom there is a dark stormy sea. The waves to start off with are huge, you feel like you will never get out and you will drown in the pain. You stay in the sea for days, weeks, even months. People try to to rescue you; some help, others, unwittingly, push you in further. Some days the sea is calm and you think you might make it to the beach, other days the storm kicks up again and the waves throw you against the rocks all over again. In time you manage to swim to the beach but there are times when the waves grab at you and pull you back in. Sometimes you expect them and know they are coming, other times they take you by surprise; so many things can trigger one of these huge tsunami like waves.
Eventually, you feel strong enough to try and climb up the cliff, you think about the baby you long for and decide it's worth the risk. It's a hard, exhausting and scary climb. Your body aches with the effort. Whenever you look up to the top you remember what's below you and it terrifies you.
Finding out you're pregnant again puts you straight at the edge of the cliff beyond the safety rail. The path is narrow and you can feel the cliff crumbling around your feet. You look longingly over to the meadow and wonder if there will ever be a safe point were you can go and join the people there. There are some days when the path gets wider and you can move further from the edge, there are even moments when you make it to the edge of the meadow and feel safe. Most of the time though you are at the cliff edge, trying not to look down to where you once were. The knowledge of what's down there and how hard it is to escape follows you like a black cloud.
Lots of people at the cliff edge stay at the top, they walk the path and get back to the meadow. My reassurance scans got me further from the edge but I struggled to get to the meadow. I got closer after I passed the 12 week mark where I lost my precious baby. Eventually at 15 weeks I decided to make the conscious effort to forget about the cliff and the raging sea below and enjoy my pregnancy. Just over a week later I found myself falling again. The sea was rougher than before, the rocks sharper.
I thought I would be stronger the second time, more able to stay afloat but I am not. It has been 3 months since my second loss and I am still fighting the waves. I feel the pressure to get to the beach and start my climb again but the thought scares me more than the sea. Maybe soon I will feel strong enough to reach the beach but in the meantime I will concentrate on staying afloat, my family is the lifeline that keeps me from sinking.
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