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And then it hit me.

November 27, 2016

It wasn't all at once. It crept up on me. During the car ride home, after 48 hours of turkey, lechon, whiskey and wine, after 48 hours of family, lots and lots of family, and now, in the peace and quiet of my vehicle as I drove down highway 205, while my fiancé sat peacefully staring out the window, my 9 y/0 engulfed in his iPad, and our dog, fast asleep in his lap - it hit me. 


Two months ago, I had a miscarriage.


When we discovered we were expecting late July, I quickly did the math. After meticulously pin pointing how far I'd be during which upcoming holiday, I remember smirking. I would have already been showing this past Thanksgiving holiday. The wine and whisky would be off limits. I likely would have spent the entire month of November looking for an outfit in the maternity section. And the car ride - I would have packed empty garbage bags, mouthwash, ginger-ale and crackers, "just in case".


Instead, on this car ride home, away from the warmth and noise of family, from the holding of babies that weren't my own, I cried. I cried quietly to myself. In the aftermath, I explained to him that I was just tired. That wasn't so much a lie. I was tired. I am tired. 


Today, crying quietly to myself was no longer an option. I sobbed out loud. Hiccupping as I usually do, gasping for air. He held me until I finished. Even after I muttered, "I should have been pregnant this past Thanksgiving," it didn't break him, though I was clearly shattered into a million pieces. I listened to the rain as I cried, pounding on our window, wanting nothing more than to be washed away by the raindrops that cleansed the earth.


I forced myself to shower, allowing the water to hold me close longer than usual, as I quietly sobbed. I picked at leftovers. While I forced myself to chew and swallow the leftover turkey and stuffing, I was no longer focused on crying, and my hiccupping had started to subside. I turned on the TV, picked some cheesy chick flick comedy on HBO, and even mustered to chuckle here and there. Then just like that, it passed.


The rain had slowed to a soft drizzle. The sun had been making attempts to poke through the clouds. Maybe it was the tryptophan I had consumed with just about every meal the past two days, maybe it was the sobbing, likely it was a combination of both - but I was tired. And as I stared out my window, watching the clouds start to part, I think I may have seen a rainbow just as I started to fall asleep.



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