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Betrayal

I have always struggled with body image issues.

The miscarriage has only made my body hate so much worse. I feel completely betrayed by my body. I’m so angry with it still. Not only could it not develop a normal pregnancy but it couldn’t figure out there was no baby growing. It made me so nauseous I could barely function while I knew there was no chance of a healthy baby.

Then, it bled for almost a full week longer than what the doctor told me I could expect. Not enough to be dangerous or even worrisome. Just enough to be annoying and make me miserable.

Then I finally got a bit of a break only to have the mother of all deluges for my first period “back.” I ruined a pair of pants, a set of sheets and countless underwear because I simply wasn’t prepared for this uncommonly heavy “welcome back to fertility.”

That finally ended and I hoped my body would even things out. In the in between Joel and I still weren’t trying but we weren’t exactly careful either.

The day my next period was due I spotted a bit so I prepared myself for another deluge like last time. I walked around for four days with basically a diaper on only to have barely another spot show up. Then things stopped altogether. Pregnancy tests kept coming back negative and so I found myself in a weird limbo of did I just finish the lightest period of my life or am I secretly pregnant already? I knew if I was pregnant the fact that I didn’t even get the faintest of lines on a test was not a good sign for viability.

One week later my questions were answered with yet another ruined pair of underwear. Turns out my period just decided to show up a full week late for the first time in my entire life. FUN! This one wasn’t quite as Niagara Falls as the last one so at least there’s that.

Then(!) two days ago I woke up, stepped out of bed and yelped because my ankle hurt so much. It felt like I sprained it. Except there’s no swelling and I have no memory of doing anything to injure it. It’s still the same today and I have no idea what’s going on. Luckily I have another week off dance before the summer session starts. It’s already stopping me from working out. If this mystery injury doesn’t clear up soon though it’s going to keep me from doing the one thing that’s been keeping me sane.

I just want to know when my body will be done messing with my head. I feel like I just start to heal and then my body pulls some other form of torture out to undo all of it. It makes me terrified to start trying again.

Logically I’m pretty sure I know my body is not actually out to get me. That doesn’t help me feel any less betrayed by it though.

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5 Comments

  1. Oh friend. After my first miscarriage, my body decided to go on strike from normal. It was a blighted ovum miscarriage, so my body didn’t get the memo until I would have been 9 weeks pg that there was no baby, so I felt HORRIBLE like I was pregnant, but no such luck. I miscarried in April and went back on birth control because I wasn’t sure I wanted to try again. Instead of regulating my period, the birth control I was on for a DECADE was suddenly enemies with my body. Instead of having a week of a period every month, I had THREE weeks of GUSHING period every month and one week off.

    I don’t know how you feel. I don’t. Because every experience is different.

    But I know what it’s like to hate my body and think that it’s faulty.

    Know you are in my prayers that you don’t have to go through this crazy much longer. And that soon you will get to experience the crazy of being pregnant. 🙂

  2. I am so sorry. I hope that you don’t have to go through this much longer.

  3. I know I don’t have the right words for you, but know that you’re in my thoughts and prayers as you go through this difficult time.

  4. Ugh, that sucks so so so much. I’m so sorry – and I’m sending healing thoughts your way!

  5. I know these feelings oh so well. I am just finishing my first post miscarriage (second miscarriage) period from hell. The doctors (at least mine) were so good about preparing me for all the symptoms of the miscarriage no one talked to me how mentally devastating and physically exhausting that first period would be. I’m sorry for your loss, and your entry to the club that no one wants to be part of.

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