It's been three weeks since my D&C surgery. It's been 4.5 weeks since we found out about the miscarriage. It's been six weeks since the actual miscarriage. Part of me feels like it's been ages, and part of me feels like it's still brand new information.
I am still bleeding.
I'm involved this week with our church's version of Vacation Bible School, and yesterday I did a monologue of the woman who had been bleeding inside for twelve years, who was healed by touching Jesus' robes. On the inside, I sort of hoped for a miracle, that God would dry up my bleeding as I did my monologue, pretending to be someone that it actually happened to.
I am so, so tired of being reminded of my grief and loss every time I go to the bathroom. I just want to be better. I just want to be permitted to complete my healing.
And I want the world to know that this is Okay. It is okay for me to not be alright. It is okay for me to continue grieving, more than a month later. This child was alive, and it died. That is an aching loss that will take more than just a surgery and a few weeks' time.
I have kept very busy these last few weeks--various doctor appointments, visiting friends, preparing for a large party this weekend, VBS, end-of-school-year stuff. Part of this is a help, because it keeps my mind from dwelling on the sadness. But the other part is that I feel too busy, like the margin in my life is gone and I'm living in a continual crisis-mode. And that wears me down, physically, mentally and emotionally.
Angel, I miss you. I love you so much.
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