So, a dear friend over at Hip Mama sent me an article about miscarriage and it was really fascinating and it got me to thinking. It is a really strange process to go through a miscarriage and with one in every six women having one at some point in their lives,I assumed their would be many sources of discussion and support. My, was I wrong. In my findings, it is the total opposite. There are very few books regarding the actual process of going through a miscarriage; I'm not only talking about the emotional changes, but the physical as well. I feel like my body is left floundering as to how to function right now. I'm not pregnant anymore but still have an arsenal of hormones, hence my resemblence to a pubescent boy with pimples scattered all over my face.
I started to wonder why this is such a hush-hush subject and I thought back to the days in which--okay, they are not completely gone--a woman's worth and value were based primarily on procreation. If a woman was "barren" it was like a death wish--what man would want a woman who could not have children and there had to be something wrong with her in the first place. Have we still left that thought in our sub conscious? I'm starting to think, yes.
I remember when I was pregnant with my eldest, Ava, and I told everyone right away. I had many family members tell me I really should wait but why would I wait? If I lost the baby, I would want to tell them. I would probably be in the hospital, so they might figure it out. It is only until now that I realize there is a secret hint of shame with miscarriages, as if the woman carrying the baby is completely at fault. Nevermind the fact that our bodies are so amazing that they know and reject a situation that is unhealthy for either the baby, the mama, or both.
Okay, I must be at 300. I did not want to lose this burst of thought...