I don’t believe that everything happens for a reason. Shitty things happen all the time. I am not the kind of person who tries to find meaning in that stuff. I don’t believe in a master plan – a grand plan of what is supposed to happen in your life. I do believe in weird coincidences and I believe sometimes things work out maybe not ‘how they are supposed to’ but in a way that is just fine.
I had a shitty couple of years when I was in my twenties, much of it my own fault, but nonetheless, it was a difficult time. And a little mantra I used to repeat to myself was that things will be okay eventually. I would remind myself that in [insert situationally appropriate length of time], things would be different. Even if it wasn’t all fixed, in a week or a month or a year in some cases, things would be different. That was certain. And so I knew – at some point – it would work out okay. I repeated it to myself often, and eventually, I was right.
I continue to apply this theory to my life.
My first pregnancy ended in a miscarriage on September 1, 2015.
My daughter was born on August 2, 2016.
Having a miscarriage is miserable. I have thought about it a million times for a million hours and written about it lots of times. It’s just hard. When I had a miscarriage, I worried about everything. I worried about being able to get pregnant again. I worried about the baby for the entirety of my second pregnancy. Maybe that’s a mom gene coming into play, too, but the worry was constant.
I realize it’s not the same day, but to me, it’s a weird coincidence that just less than a year after my miscarriage, we welcomed our little lady into this world.
I think about that a lot now, for lots of reasons. Probably much of it has to do with the fact that she is about to turn one and I am having all of the emotions about it. After I had a miscarriage, I played the why/what if game a lot, trying to convince myself I had control over the situation and if only I had done something different that I could have sustained the pregnancy, but I obviously know that isn’t true. Miscarriages happen all the time. You can’t do anything about it.
But I guess the reason I think about this miscarriage so much is that I cannot imagine a world without Winnie. I know everyone thinks they have the best kid in the world – most of the time. But Winnie is a sweet baby. She is crazy and funny and snuggly and all of the things I never even knew I was hoping for in a child. And I think about the fact that if that first pregnancy worked out, I would never have a Winnie. And that makes me sad and happy and weirdly emotional for no reason at all. She is just full of joy and she makes me more full of joy than I have ever been. Of course, it’s hard and stressful and not every day is a picnic, but most of the time, she’s a joy. And I am definitely better with her in my life.
It’s easy for me to say this now, since I am on the other side of it all, but sometimes things take a little longer than you think, or they take a path you weren’t expecting, but it turns out okay. With all of this, two years later, I feel like it’s very much okay. It’s even better than I expected.