This is not a complaining post. In comparison to so many people around the world, the pandemic and quarantine has gone very well for me and my family. That being said, we have been affected in some highly significant ways. It has been difficult, but we’re staying optimistic, and I’m surrounded by my quaranteam aka thirteen puppies and their mama.
I’m homeless. A very long story will come about this because I truly have no idea what is going to happen right now.
The puppies, Tess, and I are living with my parents in Iowa for the near future because we have nowhere else to go.
I went six weeks without making a single penny. When it comes to spending money, people don’t like to hire writers/creatives during financially problematic times. (Luckily, it’s slowly – very – starting to come back.)
Like millions of others across the country and around the world, my boyfriend lost his job.
Having a sick rescue and a litter of puppies means lots and lots of visits to the vet. I have not been able to go into the vet appointments with them since their first week check… two and a half months ago. It’s harder on Tess than the puppies because she gets so scared I’m going to leave her every time she is dropped off. It’s been very hard on her anxiety.
Beau is gaining weight and getting irritable because she can’t go to the dog park.
I wasn’t able to watch my best friend or little sister graduate from their Master’s program and Bachelor’s degree respectively. It breaks my heart for them and me; I can’t be their obnoxious cheerleader in the crowd screaming their name as they walk across the stage even though we’re not supposed to.
I haven’t been able to see Beau regularly in a long time because she’s staying with her dad so I have one less thing on my plate. I miss her dearly, and I think she is mad at me for leaving her.
The blog and the Instagram are being neglected because finding content creation inspiration is hard when I’m stuck at home constantly… My home isn’t that cute! I need some pictures for this damnit!!!
I was stuck in the car for 974 miles with thirteen puppies and a grown dog. That translates to a fifteen hour car ride, which was extended to twenty-one hours because dogs…. It was far more disgusting than you’re even imagining. Horrible. I will have to do it again, and I’m dreading it.
Last but not least, a positive: I have read so many books! So there’s been a positive impact on my reading list.
If my body had done what it was supposed to five years ago, I would be throwing a quarantine birthday party for my five year-old son or daughter right now.
Having children has never ever been a part of my life plan. Being a mother is not something I have ever craved. It has been something I’ve avoided like the plague. When I am sexually active, I obsessively avoid getting pregnant by using birth control and condoms. I’ve even gotten Plan B when condoms break because NOPE. I have enough money set aside to take care of problems if need be. I’m that kind of person.
I was that kind of person when I found out I was thirteen weeks pregnant in early fall of 2014. Miracles happen, I guess. It was too late to do anything about being pregnant. I was pregnant. I was going to be a mom. I was very much alone in my soon-to-be-parenting party. It hit me like a truck. I started planning and dreaming and getting excited because that was the only option, so I embraced it. Then, I had a miscarriage. I was mostly devastated. Relief came several weeks later as the tears slowed and the dreams faded.
As the years go by, the feelings are less poignant; the hurt is less sharp; the dreams are hazier. I still get sad. Sometimes, I even cry when I watch kids movies. Every once in a while, I think about what my life would look like had my body not failed at one of its main biologically female tasks. As ready as I was financially, in my career, and at that point in my life, I had never planned on being a mom. Five years later, my feelings have not changed: I’m sad and relieved. Those feelings can go together. You can be sorrowfully content with a miscarriage. You don’t have to have just one feeling. You are allowed to feel all the feelings whatever they are, no matter how at odds they may be with one another. It does not make you less of a woman. It does not make you less of a mother. It does not make you less of anything. It makes you a complex human, who is coping with a really difficult physical, mental, and medical situation.
Miscarriages are rarely talked about. That is starting to change as women speak about women’s issues more and more openly. Thank you to all the women on social media who are deciding to be vulnerable and honest about the crap we go through. When miscarriages are talked about, it’s usually about how overwhelmingly sad and painful they are. They are. I’m not going to lie to you about that. It’s true. It sucks. It’s sad. It’s the worst. There can also be some real positives coming out of miscarriages. They’re not apparent at first, but over the months and years as your mind and body heal, things start to look and feel better.
The majority of miscarriages happen because, for whatever reason, the body knows the baby shouldn’t come into the world for one biological reason or another. You can do everything right starting months before conception and still have a miscarriage. (Granted that was not me. Accident baby. Although, I didn’t really do much wrong.) Miscarriages happen. They happen for almost always good reasons. All babies are perfect, but not all babies are meant for this world.
Positives of miscarriages differ from person to person. One thing I can say for everyone, the life we have in this moment is not at all the life we would have had had that baby come into the world. For some of us, that’s a bad thing. For some of us, that’s a good thing. For some of us, it’s just a thing. I have an incredible life. I wouldn’t change it for the world. I would, under no circumstance, have this life with a five year old.
I would not…
have the boyfriend I have now.
had the freedom to quit my corporate job, the stable paycheck, the benefits.
be a freelance writer and blogger.
be able to sit on the couch and do nothing for hours on end.
live in Houston.
travel as much or the way I do.
have Beau in my life.
have been able to pick Tess up off the side of the road.
have the time, energy, or money to take care of thirteen puppies.
have found or reconnected with my truest passions in life.
be chasing my wild, crazy, unrealistic dreams.
have the friends I do.
walk around pantless all the time.
read as much as I do.
stay up late doing whatever the fuck I want to whenever the fuck I want to.
have the body I do.
have a savings account with money in it specifically for travel (which happens often) and/or buying things I decide I need right now (which never happens, but it’s nice to know it’s there).
be me the way I am right now.
I have no idea what my life would look like had Paeton Rae been born. I know I would have a corporate job with good benefits and a salary high enough to pay for everything she/he/their needs and wants and for us to go on a family vacation once a year. I know there would be a bedtime, healthy snacks, play dates, trips to the park, time outs, library trips, tantrums, snuggles, bedtime reading, dance parties, messes, and a lot of other things my life does not have right now. I would have loved that life for what it was, but that was never my dream. I never had to make the decision to not be pregnant, to not be a mom; my body did that for me. I was sad. I am sad. I miss the life I could have had and holding the baby I never got to hold.
But.
I love my life. I see the blessing the sadness of my miscarriage was. I see all the opportunities and possibilities my life still has in store for me that would not have been possible as a single mom to a five year old.
bisous und обьятий, RaeAnna
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