This week is pretty shit.
We’re in the week that is the anniversary of being told that our pregnancy was definitely non-viable and having the D&C that was 2 weeks before our wedding.
It is a really difficult place to be in, being sad about a loss that ultimately gave you the beautiful little girl sleeping next to you.
It is really really easy to feel like you’re not allowed to be sad when you conceived again so quickly, when it was just a miscarriage. When it wasn’t even a baby in the first place, even though they kept giving you hope that there was.
But I’m reasonably lucky.
I had support. I had people checking in on me, treating me gently. Listening to me and letting me cry.
Do you know who didn’t?
Everyone looks after the mothers.
Even the fathers are looking after the mothers.
They’re quietly in the background, holding themselves together so that their partner who is in so much pain has someone to lean on. Someone to take it all out on.
Someone to trust to be strong.
They have to be strong.
It was a not very nice day yesterday. I was feeling fragile, Pat was distant, we were snapping at each other.
Shamefully, on my behalf, because I was hurting and I wanted him to acknowledge it, I said “Do you know today is the anniversary of when we were told that our pregnancy wasn’t viable?”
And he answered “I know…” And just wandered off.
He spent most of the day curled up on the bed.
Or curled up on the lounge. Not talking, not doing anything.
Just staring into the distance.
I cuddled him and said “You know, it’s okay to be sad about it all”
He told me that it’s not supposed to affect him.
He’s the dad.
Please, think about the dads.
MEN, have the awkward conversation.
Ask if your friend is okay. He probably needs it.