I would have been 23 weeks pregnant today.

Instead, I’m struggling to lose the weight I gained during my two months of depression, grief, and emotional eating. I’ve had a “normal” cycle since the emergency D&C, but we aren’t ready to try again. I’m not. I’m afraid. When the miscarriage initially happened I wanted to try again right away. Anything to distract myself from the agony of loss. Now, I just have residual fear and reluctance. With the wedding looming, I’m using that as an excuse to postpone, even though my 35th birthday is just around the corner.

Aiden is working away, and I’m ovulating today, and I’m almost relieved that I don’t have to worry about how good his pull out game is. Maybe dropping an egg is why I feel so emotional, not to mention sexually frustrated.

I do want to try again. I’m just afraid. The miscarriage was traumatizing, basically every single bad thing that could have happened in that event, did. I never want to go through that again, but I realize every pregnancy is rolling the dice, with an ever-increasing chance of failure.

Also, I don’t feel like I can talk to anyone about my grief. Aiden and I have been so content lately, which I just really need right now. I don’t want to keep bringing it up. My closest friends have their own struggles with infertility (not uncommon in a group of ladies our age) and it feels unfair to be sad when I already have two children. Also the D&C was over a month ago, I don’t feel like I get to keep being upset. Truthfully, I don’t think about it most days, but sometimes I do, and I feel very alone in those moments.

Thankfully, I always have this little piece of anonymity that I can dust off when I need it.