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The Uterus Monologues: Miscarriage, motherhood and me

The Uterus Monologues: Miscarriage, motherhood and me

Life after recurrent miscarriage

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Tag: taking a break

October 12, 2018October 12, 2018Jennie

Hello from the other side

I’ve been thinking a lot about what I thought I would write for this week – it’s Baby Loss Awareness Week in the UK right now – and honestly? I’ve struggled. I feel like it deserves my best ‘content’, my best efforts. Me at my most opinionated, campaigning, vociferous self. But my heart is just […]

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August 23, 2018August 23, 2018Jennie

Is it too late?

I’m often late. Not by a lot, just by five or ten minutes, usually. Enough to make me sweat and feel like everything is a disaster. It’s something I really dislike about myself and I’m never quite sure why it happens, because I’m a pretty organised person at heart. Perhaps it’s eternal optimism. Trying to […]

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October 3, 2017June 2, 2018Jennie

Getting back to normal after miscarriage

I realise most people got over that beginning of autumn/new term feeling about a month ago, but due to two weeks of post-ERPC hibernation followed by an actual holiday in the sun I’m a bit behind. Last week was ‘back to school’ for me. Back in the office, back in the gym and, well, back […]

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Say hello on Instagram...

When I was pregnant for the first time, the 12-week ‘rule’ seemed little more than a fun tradition to me. We didn’t tell many people ‘in case something happened’, but without really believing anything actually would. Whether you tell people early, or whether you wait, either way, this enduring social convention starts to feel like a big cosmic joke after you lose a pregnancy.
Hi, I’m Jennie - and this is what the back of my hair actually looks like in real life. 🤷🏻‍♀️ I wasn’t going to share this picture. I’ve been having a kind of Instagram stage fright - it often happens when I’ve been posting reasonably regularly for a bit. I start to feel over-exposed, I annoy myself, I worry and question everything I start to write. I tell myself that if I’m going to share my awkward selfies and snapshots of my rather quiet life, I better have something powerful and important to say. So I end up saying nothing for a bit and feeling rubbish. But do you know what? Life’s too short.
This is from an old post, which I re-shared on my stories earlier this week. Judging by my inbox, it seems to have struck a chord so I thought I’d post it here too. Because I think there’s a still an anxiety around talking about abortion or being pro-choice as someone who desperately wants to become pregnant or who has grieved for a miscarriage - as if these causes are completely separate or even at odds with each other. As if by declaring one thing you are invalidating your own feelings about the other: your right to grieve, your imagining of what you lost as a life, or what could have been a life.
I am personally very grateful to this week’s guest post author, as it’s helped me appraise and explore my own feelings about this particular topic - whether and when to try for another child after a ‘rainbow’ baby. In this post, Steph @crossing_everything reflects so honestly on the prospect of trying again, after a miscarriage, a tfmr, and then after finding the newborn phase with her rainbow girl difficult. I found it helpful and - ultimately - hopeful, too. (Tap the link in my bio to read).
✨ Am I making the most of it? Am I cherishing our time? Is this ‘special’ enough? ✨ These sorts of questions have buzzed around my brain basically ever since Edward was born. Mostly, they existed as nebulous guilt; a panic I couldn’t yet articulate. Time was running out. I wouldn’t get these ‘firsts’ again. This was it, the moment(s) I had waited for for so long. Was I making it special enough?
Today marks 5 years since I wrote publicly about miscarriage for the first time. My first one. On the day the newspaper piece this quote is taken from went to print, I was actually pregnant again. There was part of me that thought writing and publishing the piece marked the end of that particular chapter of my life, when in fact it had barely started.

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