Well first off let me thank everyone for such generous, open and loving words following my last post, both on here, on Facebook and personal messages of support and condolence for the loss of our Blueberry. Truly it was overwhelming- mostly in a good way, but also a bit saddening to know that so many people I know have endured similar suffering and grief.
I really didn’t know what to expect following the obvious grief of the loss. The Sunday following the Tuesday that I went into hospital to have things taken care of I had what I can only guess was a major hormonal crash.
Up til that point I still felt totally and completely pregnant- terribly aching boobs, cravings, very tired etc. Thankfully I’d never had things too bad with morning sickness and such, but the boobs were the killer. And I was showing, complete with uncomfortable jeans (and a sensitive abdomen following surgery). But Sunday I suddenly, and I mean SUDDENLY, felt not pregnant. Grumpy, indecisive, like I had the first PMS in several months. I remembered that I should take vitamin B complex for moodiness on Monday which helped somewhat, but then absolutely nothing could come to my rescue on Tuesday. Tuesday could have sent me to prison, the mental ward, or home to my husband and thankfully I chose the latter. I was raving, angry, impatient, frustrated, upset, etc. I didn’t feel like I was depressed necessarily or like I was just grieving- I was pissed off generally – PMS but with a loaded shotgun… on Oxford Circus… literally- I was on Oxford Circus. That place makes me grumpy on a good day! I went home and cried for hours in the most dramatic fashion I’ve ever cried. I was nearly inconsolable and my husband deserves some applause for not killing me or having me sectioned.
I was reading about post-pardum depression following a miscarriage as hormones do their crazy stuff and thinking, ‘Please no, I can’t live like this for weeks on end.’ I continued taking my B-complex though and thankfully- Oh So Thankfully- I haven’t experienced a similar spell since.
I am now relishing the normality of not feeling pregnant. I never made it to the 2nd trimester feeling amazing sort of stages of pregnancy. I just felt fat, my boobs hurt so badly (and grew quickly!), and I couldn’t drink wine or eat nice cheese. Now my clothes fit again, my sisters are happy once again and I’ve rediscovered with ferocity the joys of wine and cheese.
Now to figure out where to go with ‘trying again.’ I might just get a surrogate (kidding).
For the time being, Rob has made good on my Christmas gift promise from last year- a shiny new kitten. We picked up the kitten formerly known as ‘Penny’ Tuesday from Battersea, having gone on a mission for a black male cat who would suit the name ‘Striker’. We returned with a beautiful girl who is mostly white and now called ‘Cosette’. She makes us very happy.