Children have super-sonic hearing. They hear that shower turn on and it’s a 10-9-8-7… countdown till they find me. We do have a bathtub (mini pool, for all the fun they have in it), but I’m convinced that you cannot drown in a shower and so that’s where I gravitate toward. The baby has always been showered. She could probably survive being dropped (which never happened), but I don’t fancy taking a chance on drowning.
I wrote that I had been experiencing some spotting last week. Well. Well… Sunday the floodgates opened. I was sitting next to my husband in Sunday School and having a great time actively participating (we just split into 2 different Sunday Schools and since we had been rather large, it’s more difficult to be heard among the more chatty folk) and I feel ‘that’ wetness. I feel like I’ve been saying gushing a lot. Gushing. Gushing. Gushing. But yes, it was gushing. Fancy that I’ve been learning from my mistakes, or life, or whatever. Guess what I had in my bag…. Dun-dun-na-na, a fresh pair of underwear and, of course, a pad stash. I excuse myself and head off to the restroom to ‘freshen up’.
I think that this is my first period since the miscarriage. I’ve also read from women that this first deluge after miscarrying can be a doozy. It’s a not altogether unexpected emotion of joy to be finally back to a regular cycle and to be on my lovely period. I really can’t wait to try again and I also don’t think I’ll have any trouble convincing my hubby to forgo any protection. But… I’m really tired of calling my doctor’s office. Today we went back to the church for a VBS workday. We were there from 9-2 and I went through 7 tampons and 2 pads, literally soaked through. When we got back home, I tried timing an hour. You’re not supposed to soak through more than 1 pad per hour. I didn’t soak through, so I didn’t call. I can’t stand to hear ‘that’s normal’ one more time.
Just imagine though… one month from now and I could be pregnant again. *smile.
I’m at this very moment watching my husband through the window and he’s planting the sweet potatoes that went a little too long in the cupboard. They’re all limp and sprouty, and we don’t waste food, so here’s hoping that they grow more fresh potatoes for us! Somehow this makes my heart love him more. I can see him outside doing work for the family, while we’re all inside. He’s a good man, a great find. And I did find him, I asked him out, thank you very much!
Another thought I had about the miscarriage last night was rather sad. I find it absolutely amazing that unborn babies don’t ‘count’. I’m not going to go into the whole pro-life/pro-choice movement, what I mean is, that I can’t tell people that my 1 year old is actually my 5th child and that I just lost a 6th baby. My 1 year old is my 4th child. I do understand that this would all be too confusing for the random stranger that comments on my brood. But now, after every comment about having my ‘hands full’ or ‘what beautiful children you have’, I want to tell them that my hands were fuller and now they’re not, but I don’t. It’s just truly amazing to this mommy that they can’t count except to me. I do believe that they were alive with souls, so I will see them again and that’s enough.