It’s 15 days since I found out our baby had died.
It’s 10 days since I finished bleeding heavily.
I’m still passing blood each day, but it’s light now, and I suppose to be expected given that my last ultrasound check said I still have a womb-lining thick enough for pregnancy. I think this will probably last until my first period arrives.
Last night I stayed up late (well, 10:30pm, is very late for me), drank 3 glasses of Prosecco, and made plans.
After pottering around the house doing pretty much nothing for two weeks, not showering, pretending to be cheerful for the boys and aimlessly wandering though the days, I’ve had enough of myself. Enough of myself as a figure of pathos and misery. Enough of the house that now looks like no one loves it. Enough of the mess and the chores and laundry that are up to the ceiling.
It’s time to start doing things again.
DH feels the same. That it’s time for change. That daily life seems meaningless at the moment, in the wake of everything that’s happened. He suggested Australia and wine farming. I suggested India and writing. Whatever happens, we’ll do it together.
Like an evil genius I sat at the computer last night, tapping away, nodding, thinking, and tapping away some more.
Because dammit I love making plans, and I’m never happier than when I have a list to work with.
I thought honestly, deeply about what I really want, about meaningful happiness and it turns out it’s not wildly different from where we are.
I made a 5 year plan.
Something to focus on.
I’ve broken it down into 3 year, 1 year, 6 month, 3 month and 4x weekly targets.
They range from getting out of debt, and having a set amount of savings, to incorporating yoga into my life daily and working towards emotional peace. They cover minimalism, writing and building genuine friendships. And possibly having another baby. Maybe.
I think, since I blog here pretty regularly anyway, that the focus of this blog will morph as I move forward.
I no longer want to blog about secondary infertility, or recurrent miscarriage (hell, I never wanted to blog about any of that in the first place, but I kind of woke up one day and realised that’s what this had turned into). These things are part of me, so inevitably they will come up, but I want this blog to be more than that.
So, as always, this blog is a journey. But a journey I want to make, rather than one I happened to find myself on.
I hope it will be an interesting one, because I am fed up with writing about bloody miscarriages!