Last week I went to my first prenatal yoga class and had to fill out a waiver and make note of any health issues, etc., including this baby’s due date. There was also a section that asked how many pregnancies & deliveries we have had. It was the first time I’ve had to “mention” my miscarriage that I had in July, and ironically enough, I just remembered that if I didn’t miscarry I would’ve been due this past weekend, on March 7.
Just a random, sobering thought for today.
I tend to
forget push that experience to the deep and dark corners of my brain and not think about it a lot, but then again I have been showing signs of subconscious paranoia during this pregnancy. I check the toilet paper after I go to the bathroom for any specks of red, a habit that I don’t even notice I’m doing half the time. Every cramp now has me wonder.
I know everything is just fine this time around – at least for now. If having a miscarriage has taught me anything, it’s that nothing in life in guaranteed. Shit happens, both bad and good, and we’re forced to adjust to whatever is thrown our way. Like that waiver; nothing like a little reminder saying, “Hey, remember that one time you were pregnant but your body went, ‘Nooooope!’?” to really put things in perspective for you.
I know I’ll never 100% forget about what happened last summer, but I can at least try my very best not to dwell on it. It’s tough when it’s brought up unexpectedly, but that’s life – full of the unexpected.