What The Hospital's Taught Me

We had another event this week. I'm unsure what to call it because the doctors aren't really sure what happened. I genuinely thought I was pregnant for the past month and a half. I had all of the symptoms; the only thing I was lacking was a positive test. I knew in my heart what had happened, but without confirmation, the doctors couldn't diagnose me. Without going into too much detail, on Tuesday evening, I was taken to the hospital. Due to the situation and the amount of blood loss, I was kept overnight. But this time, when I was sitting in the hospital, I had a few realizations:

1) One of our close family friends was leaving the hospital that night, right as I was admitted, and came into the ER room and helped me through this episode. She knew that, whether this was or was not another miscarriage, the trauma from our first loss was being triggered again by what was happening in my body. Having somebody recognize and sympathize with the intense amount of hurt and pain I was in, both physically and mentally, made me feel like I wasn’t alone. I felt like I had somebody in my corner who would fight for and support me and actually understood what was happening in my mind and body. What I had experienced and was currently experiencing was real and traumatic, and not everybody understands the scars that it leaves.

Dorothy

2) The next morning, I was in my hospital room, and a therapy dog named Dorothy came in to see me. I didn’t realize how much joy seeing a dog would bring me. At that moment, I realized the importance of actively finding joy in every moment. Instead of focusing on what was going wrong, I was going to focus on all the little things that were going right.

3) A chaplain‘s assistant also came in to see me, and I was doing my best to talk with her and be honest while also smiling and trying to keep a positive outlook.

She knew I was sad and struggling emotionally, and she asked me what I was going to do for myself when I got home from the hospital. I didn’t know how to answer at first. I was already planning what I needed to do at work, how this would affect my schedule, what I needed to do at home, etc. Her question made me realize that I’ve spent so much time focused on other things instead of taking a step back, prioritizing rest, and doing things that actually make me happy. I’ve gotten so caught up in distracting myself from my current situation that I’ve forgotten how to take time for myself.

4) While talking to the chaplain's assistant, I also noticed that I have been trying my best to be happy and positive for everyone around me, but it's OK for me to be honest and talk about how I'm feeling.

Admitting that I'm having a hard time or that my heart is heavy is not a bad thing, and sometimes there are seasons in life where instead of trying to give all of my energy and support to others, it's OK to be still and receive. It's OK to distance yourself or set boundaries for your own physical and mental health if that's what you need. Grief and trauma are not something that you can just sleep off overnight. It’s OK to slow down and step back.

5) I realized the intense pressure I’ve been putting on myself and on my body to conceive.

My body is still healing. My mind is still processing. And my heart will never truly be able to accept this loss. And instead of putting this pressure on myself to fulfill this dream, I need to really dial in and listen to my body. I can’t just expect to get pregnant again and pick up where I left off. I must find a way to live and be okay in this current season.

6) Lastly, someone close to me told me I needed to stop writing because it was keeping me in a “bad mental place” and “people are worried about me and asking questions.”That comment is what hurt me the most. When I write, I can pour out these difficult emotions and finally release what’s in my head. When I try to talk to people, even those closest to me, I hear statements about how I need to stop thinking about what happened, move forward, focus on the positives, stop asking questions, or trust God’s timing. But if we don’t express emotions, then we’re stuck just thinking about them constantly over and over again in our heads instead of putting them out in the open. People don’t always know what to say or have the right answers, but the community of women (both in person and online) who have walked with me on this journey have been some of the greatest gifts.