I haven't written for the past couple of days. To be honest, that last entry took A LOT out of me. I'm not sure how I thought I would feel when I was finished, but it wasn't what I expected.
I felt empty and alone when I was done writing. I guess it didn't help that Cam was on a night shift, so I truly was alone. (except for my pets -a Chesapeake Bay Retriever named Karmen, and an orange cat named Rolo). I had a lump in my stomach, and I wasn't sure how to deal with it. I wasn't depressed about everything, I was just sad.
I've got the worst part out, but I want to continue writing. I think it's good for me, and probably good for other people to know what I went through, and what I'm going through. I've never been good at telling people how I feel, and it's gotten worse since the miscarriage. I was getting good at holding things in, which is what brings me to tonight's blog.
I'm not ready yet to write about the rest of it because it's really been a long process of healing. What I want to talk about is my support system.
I've found from others that a lot of times, you find out who your real friends are in times like these. Actually, even pregnancies, I think people start to realise that maybe some of their friends aren't the best for that situation.
I didn't experience that. I didn't have any friends I wanted to cut out of my life because of they way they reacted (or didn't react) to my pregnancy. I guess that's not true actually, it showed me the true character of the guy who got me pregnant. Other than him though, who I knew for less time than anybody else, I felt loved and supported.
After I lost the baby, I even heard from friends of friends telling me they were sorry. I received texts, emails, facebook messages, hugs and phone calls.
Cameron's mother, whom I had never met before, gave me a hug as soon as she found out. She also spoke about the situation up front and honestly.
My mom came up to Whitecourt and stayed with me after I got out of the Whitecourt hospital (the second hospital visit).
Cam brought me flowers from him, and a plant from his family. He held me, he let me cry, he listened, and he talked me through everything. He told me the honest truth, and that's what I needed.
Denise called me EVERY DAY for the first bit. I can remember one phone call when she asked out of the blue if I was eating. She's going to make a great mother. (I don't think I was eating -not starving myself, just not hungry).
A co-worker gave me a hug because he didn't know what else to say. That was all I needed. Every body I worked with was great. They came to visit me in the hospital, gave me a gift, and they gave me space and let me heal (while checking in).
My Toronto friend -I call her my twin (not sure if she wants her name mentioned), has always been supportive of my writing, and inspirational to me. It's because of her that I'm writing this. I nag her about terrible habits she has, and she nags me about not writing.
I don't think I appreciated all the good will as much as I do now. There are so many people I haven't mentioned, but every ONE of my friends helped me in some way. Even if they weren't there at the time, they still stood with me (from whereever they were) when they found out.
I'm just incredibly happy that I have the support system that I do. I'm lucky. Even through all that, I'm one of the luckiest people to have those family, those friends, and those co-workers.
That's it for tonight. I wanted to stop with the sad ones, and talk about what makes me happy in life, and what keeps (kept) me going.