Some days are better than others.

I remember feeling okay on Thursday. There were a couple of breakdowns, but I was pretty calm otherwise. To be fair, I didn’t leave the house at all, but I still I worried that I was feeling too “good” too soon. Wasn’t I supposed to grieve and mourn harder? If I was really sad, shouldn’t I be in bed, unable to eat, unable to enjoy or do anything? Did being able to function this soon mean I was avoiding or repressing something?

Are we working through this the “right” way?

Then Friday happened. It was rough. I was grumpy, irritable and on the verge of tears for most of the day. My first solo walk with Bodhi since returning home was interrupted by rain, too. Blake had to pop into work for a couple of hours and while he offered not to go due to the state I was in, I insisted that he go because I think I would’ve felt worse otherwise. I just made sure I knew what time he was due home. I managed by talking to my sister and doing some writing. That evening, I pushed myself to go to a quiz night because having the quiz to focus on was likely to be a good distraction. It was our first outing with friends, so for me it felt like I was making progress. It was nearby and with a small group of friends, none of whom ask silly questions or say silly things. And we happened to win. So, that helped. After we got home, Blake sat me down and we ran through what was and wasn’t helpful in getting me through the quiz night. That was a huge help and I love the shit out of my husband.

Saturday was better again. I managed 4 outings, all with just Blake. Some retail therapy, then a dog park, then a brand new place for dinner (that felt like a huge step, actually), and then a movie. I felt pretty settled during our outings, then really tired at the end of the day... and then, as I tried to fall asleep, suuuuuper guilty.

So on days that suck, I feel bad because they suck. And then on days that don’t suck, I feel bad because they don’t suck. When I’m feeling calmer and have a break from crying, I chastise myself for not crying, because surely that means I’m not grieving properly. How can I have a mostly fine, mostly “normal” day less than a week after the miscarriage?!

And if I’m not worried about me, I’m worried about Blake. I worry that Blake is due back at work a week after the miscarriage... not because I need him home with me, but because I worry that he’s pushing himself too hard to go back. Is he actually coping well, or is he putting on a stoic face for my sake? (Blake is fully aware of all this and we’ve talked about it, just for the record. My brain is just really stupid sometimes.)

Like, I actually need to give myself a fucking break.

So, let’s work on that. Okay. I think I’m able to feel okay sometimes because I’m not at work. I also haven’t had to think about food since coming home; there is always something to eat when I need it, thanks to amazing family and friends. There is basically no pressure on me coming from anywhere (except myself). There is nothing I have to do and I have no one to answer to. This gives me plenty of room to process my grief rather than have to push it away. I can cry literally whenever I need to and bail on an outing if I want. I don’t have to worry about being a professional or polite or even marginally functional. Yeah, so, with all that in mind, of COURSE there are days where I feel okay! This it what it means when we say having good supports is good for healing!

Having Blake go back to work first also makes sense. He does better when he feels productive and work will be a good distraction as well. While he’s at work, I can practice looking after myself solo and ensure I have the capacity to care for him after he goes through a full day of work. There are going to be things we can’t predict that might pop up for him during the day, and so me being home to support him at the end of the day can help him adjust. That will allow him to go back without worrying so much about me, and then the focus can be on what he needs to go back to full-time work. After that, we’ll worry about my own return to work.

Some days are better than others, and that’s okay. Some days are worse than others, and that’s okay, too.