I’ve always thought remembering dates of bad days and having them loom over your head was stupid. Every single day after the first bad one is a reminder. You never go back to the way things were before. I didn’t think the date coming back around would affect me at all–but I was wrong. It’s like my body remembers and my mind is experiencing it all over again…I know the physical part has been finished for a long time, but the emotional part is still making its way through my heart and putting tangles in my mind that I can’t figure out how to undo.  —Angela Adams

The anniversary of my D&C was last week. I’m moving forward. Work is good, Pete and I are good–we like Cincinnati and our life here so far. Not so sure about winter yet, but I’ll know more about that in another month.

But the anniversaries! The anniversaries knock me on my ass. This past week has been particularly difficult. At night, I dream of being pregnant and going into labor but not having a baby come out. I wake up panicking and remember it’s ok because I’m not pregnant and it’s not really happening. During the day, I go about my business but my heart hurts. I think about how much things have changed in the past year. I thought leaving Orlando would help us start over. Instead it reminds me that we wouldn’t be here we had had our baby.

And then there’s the healing. To me, healing is tidy–a wound eventually closes and is “fixed.” The aftermath of miscarriage is not tidy. It’s messy, complicated, painful and unfixable. Not to mention somewhat isolating, since talking about it makes people uncomfortable. But does that even matter? Because there aren’t any words that can really describe what it feels like to have lost a baby.