There's been a lot of talk going on in the blog world lately about miscarriages and women's fertility.
The thing of it is, I get it. I do.
But there's so much more to it that that. There's so much more to women's health than her ability to successfully create and carry a child to term.
Because some of us have issues that don't necessarily fit into that nice little box with the label "infertile".
Take me, for example.
But not in the "trying to conceive" sort of a sense.
On the other hand, I'm NOT infertile, because, hello young children.
It's incredibly awkward for me to explain what I'm feeling, and I know no matter what I say, I'M WRONG.
I'm wrong because I don't know what it's like to want a baby that badly.
I'm wrong because I don't know what it's like to lose a baby.
I'm wrong because I just couldn't possible understand why she's feeling what she's feeling, and she doesn't need my pity or my misunderstanding.
Let me be the first to tell you, YOU'RE wrong.
I do understand how it feels to want a baby that badly. To want to be able to carry YOUR OWN CHILD, inside of your body, safely, and fully.
I do understand what it's like to lose a baby. Yes, I have four kids...
But there was supposed to be five.
I'm not asking for you to understand how I feel, because I know it's not the same. But it's not so very different either.
The loss of a baby, any baby, whether it's your first, or your fifth, is devastating.
Even now, a year after having my cervix and uterus removed from my body, I still go into the bathroom expecting to see blood.
And while I know this, it doesn't change the habit.
It doesn't stop me from wondering what if.
Logically, I know that my child bearing years are over.
I can laugh about it, joke about it, pretend it doesn't bother me.
But sometimes, late at night, when I'm all alone, it still hurts.
My throat catches, the tears fall.
There's no explaining why.
I like to think it's because I'm a woman.