The realization of the impending one-year mark of my first miscarriage is already beginning to make its mark on me. Today I had a meeting with a colleague who's had three miscarriages followed by a (so far very) successful pregnancy. She let me know that another colleague is now 12 weeks along and will likely make a public announcement soon. In empathy she just wanted to... warn me? I guess. I thanked her, of course, for such sensitivity. We share an interesting bond for otherwise knowing very little about each other.
This afternoon, on the shuttle bus to the parking lot where I park for work, I caught a lump in my throat. I swallowed before it could affect my eyes.
I am remembering Easter Sunday. It was early morning, and I pulled out my Bible from my nightstand to read while my husband was sleeping. Randomly decided to read a section in John. Chapter 15. Started from the beginning - the vine and the branches. Read through verse 7: If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you.
I stopped. Ran over the words again and again. I started praying. And weeping - just as I did when the wounds of my miscarriages were first rent. I haven't cried a drop in a couple months, not since I started taking anti depressants (which have been good for me, you should know).
I feel like the shine is wearing off.
Or maybe I'm just projecting the pain of the recent past into the possibilities of the future.
I need another glass of wine. cheers....
