I thought I was good today. I felt like it was the first day in a while where some of the fog hanging over my heart had lifted. I could see glimpses of the sunshine start to pop through again. I spent the day soaking every bit of my life in and today, it didn’t stop me dead in my tracks.
My mind still turned to what I lost often. It always does. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about the baby I lost. But I could still breathe. I could still function. I could still manage amid the heartbreak.
And then, just like that, it all flipped.
As I sat at the table with Addison, finishing up our lunch, I got a call. My phone lit up with the letters “OBGYN” big and bold and uninviting. I thought about letting it go to voicemail. I wasn’t sure why they were calling me and thought that surely, it was a mistake.
Instead, I answered it. I wish I hadn’t. But I’m not sure hearing it in voicemail would have made it any easier.
The girl was sweet. She sounded like the receptionist I always chat with on my way out that schedules my appointments for me. I don’t know if that’s who it was or not. I don’t know that it matters.
She hit me with a ton of bricks I couldn’t have anticipated.
She was calling to confirm my appointment for Monday. She mentioned something about it being with a different doctor because mine would be in surgery, but the rest of my appointments would be with my normal doc. Her words echoed like a weight on my heart. “The rest of my appointments. The rest of my appointments. The rest of my appointments.”
I don’t know what else she said. I went blank and my heart sank. My mind immediately flashed to the blood in the toilet. The heartbreak I’ve felt so deeply. The tears I’ve shed. The grief that won’t go away.
How do I cut her off, nicely, before this gets any more painful? But I was frozen. She finished her spiel and with a giant knot in my throat, trying my best to fight back tears but failing miserably, I told her I would no longer be needing the appointments because I had had a miscarriage.
I could feel her embarrassment. In any other situation, I would do my best to ease it for her because it’s not her fault she was uninformed. But honestly, I was too shattered to care. She apologized and we both tried to end the call ask quickly as we could.
I thought I was good today. And then, I knew I wasn’t good today. I immediately fell apart. I didn’t even try to hold it in. I was so mad at them for not cancelling my appointment. Furious that I had to be reminded of my failure at this moment, in this way. There I was, standing at the top of a very dark, deep hole, looking down, just knowing that that is where I was headed. I could feel myself starting to spiral and I didn’t know how to stop it. Or if I should stop it.
The only thing I could think to do was call someone. I don’t know what I expected from talking to someone, but I knew I desperately needed the comfort of someone else’s voice. Maybe talking to someone else would pull me back from the ledge of this deep hole, staring at me, begging me to dive in.
I called my husband. I thought about not calling him. His heartbreak is as real as mine, and I really don’t want to add any more weight onto his heart than I already have. But I needed to hear his voice. I needed his presence, even if it was just a presence through the phone.
His protective instincts immediately took over. He was pissed. He was ready to go to their office and “Karen” the hell out of them. And then he was soft. Apologetic. Worried. And knowing exactly what I needed at that moment, he started talking to me about something totally unrelated.
It took my mind off of my heart very, very briefly. But it was enough time to back away from the ledge. It was what I needed. I hated that I couldn’t back myself away from the spiral I was headed down, but I am so grateful that I have a husband who knows what I need without having to tell him. Especially in instances like this.
I thought I was good today. And I know there will be other days where I think I am good. And maybe it will stay that way. But there will be other instances where something happens and I am standing right back on that ledge, staring down at that deep, dark spiral again. And there will be some days that I don’t win, that I can’t back away. But today, I am grateful. I am grateful that I was okay, and then I wasn’t, but then I was again.