It has been 6 weeks since my miscarriage and I’m angry.
Just plain angry.
I don’t know what stage of grief that falls under. In fact, I purposely have not looked at the stages of grief. I don’t want to think I’m on stage three when a bad day makes me realize I’m really still at a one. I know I will teeter back and forth between the stages, whatever they may be, but I don’t want to know about them officially just yet.
Here are the stages I have gone through:
Stage 1: Sadness. To the core.
Stage 2: A Need to Hide: I could not see or talk to anyone the first two weeks. I knew I would break down and it was not something I was comfortable doing in front of so many.
Stage 2: Retail therapy: I told Derek I didn’t want to hear anything about our Discover bill this month. Just pay it and we’ll worry about the next bill in due time. I’m sure he’d say THE LOFT, Target, Macy’s, and Dillard’s have benefited immensely from my grief.
Stage 3: Annoyance: Annoyed that Derek gets to carry on with life as usual and I am stuck waiting. Waiting to exercise, waiting to have a direction again, waiting to feel normal.
Stage 4: Jealousy: Looking at pregnant woman wishing it were me. This one always makes me feel like such a jerk since I’ve already been blessed three times.
Stage 5: Anger: I’m angry I had to quit my part time job I loved. I’m angry I can only exercise 2 times a week right now because of some complications. I’m angry I got my period. I’m angry I can’t fit into my summer clothes because it’s 85 degrees. I’m angry the daycare can’t seem to clean my daughter’s nose once during the day. Just name it and I can give you my side of it and how to be angry about it.
Stage 6, 7, 8, 9, 10… I don’t know what phase I will go through next but I do feel confident I am moving in the right direction. Writing has truly been cathartic for me. It lets me share at my own pace.
I will be fine. Better than fine. Just not sure when.