It was 5 years ago today that I had my miscarriage. It’s such an odd anniversary. I’ve made peace with it, I don’t have the pain I suffered with before, but it’s like everything else about. I think about what might have been, a little wistfully, a little surprise. To think I’d have a child who’d be going to kindergarten this fall…. what he’d be like, the times we would have had, bad and good. Could I be a good mom, not just to him, but in the person I’d be as a mom. Would I be snobbish about it like I see so many people doing, looking down their noses at me for not having kids, or judging how other people raise their children differently than I do.
I’m glad I’ve found peace with it all, and I’m glad that my thinking about it still is normal. I’ve met so many great people, either face to face or through their writings. They gave me a great gift in erasing that early horrible feeling that I was acting…. crazy or obsessive, for lack of a better word. They showed me I acted normally, both then and now when I’m doing the same old ‘game’ of thinking “I wonder….” And I’m glad for the people who didn’t go away with their support when so many did.
So it’s an odd anniversary, just full of thinking and wondering.