You may have noticed that things have been quieter than usual here on Pixelated Crumb this year. It’s not that I’m not cooking, baking, and eating, and it’s not that I haven’t been itching to share fabulous, seasonal recipes. It’s just been…well, it’s been an interesting year.
I found out that I was pregnant in early February and at just about the same time, my appetite went a bit haywire. I didn’t really want to look at food, let alone take pictures and write about food. I was basically in a semi-permanent state of always feeling a little awful (sometimes just straight up awful) and so unbearably tired. Foods that I had loved suddenly repulsed me. I got through the first 12 weeks knowing it would get better and that it would all be worth it.
But when I went in for my first ultrasound at 12 1/2 weeks, the doctor, after reviewing the sonogram the technician had just taken, came in the room and told us how very sorry he was. I couldn’t understand what he could possibly be talking about. Why would he be sorry? This was such a happy thing! New life! Soft baby skin and tiny little toes! It took a while for the news to sink in. Despite the fact that my body had kept carrying on being pregnant, the baby simply had not developed.
Over the past several months, I have written this blog post over and over in my head. I have gone over and over what I had to say, but it would fill a chapter in a book to say everything I wanted to say: how I declined a D&C and took meds that forced a miscarriage, how I had to take two rounds of the medicine for it to finally kick in, how intensely painful it was, how my parents drove eight hours to be with me, how I stared at pregnant women and couples with newborn babies with anger and resentment deep in my heart, how guilty and ashamed I felt for that anger and resentment, how kind and supportive my friends and family were, how I felt betrayed by my body, how responsible I felt no matter how many times the doctor and midwives told me that nothing I had done had caused this to happen, how my coworkers who didn’t even know why I was out of work for a week brought me flowers, how it took so much longer than I thought it would to recover, how I got macarons and Jeni’s ice cream in the mail from great friends, and how I never felt closer to and more in love with Joseph.