It struck me yesterday as I was doing dishes that the first anniversary of my second miscarrisge had come and gone. I had scarce given it much of a thought. I panicked and tried hard to remember the exact date but couldn't. it was sometime on feb
my first miscarriage, I remember in great detail. I remember the date, the feelings. my cousin texted me that morning that their baby girl was just born. I was happy and hopeful that if after several miscarriage and a stillborn they saw this day I would too.
I was worried that I was about to screw up big time. the doctor had insisted the foetus was dead and I needed a d& c, yet I kept asking if I was doing the right thing.
I remember everything yet when it came to my second miscarrisge I forgot. it certainly didnt hurt any lesser, I remember the wail that erupted from me when I tried to tell my mother. if anything the second one was worse. the first could have been a fluke, something that happened to most women. the second one heralded the possibility of a failure.
the one role I had prepared myself to play all my life, the one role I had dreamed about, planned about, the one role of motherhood was suddenly inching away from me.
the second miscarriage and yet I forgot, how could I?