I find comfort in my own thoughts for sometimes I jump the gun for it’s what I’ve always done, and with this so I have.
Planning a pregnancy for it not to go as planned was just God asking me if I am ready to be a believer again. Yes, you question was I ever a believer and at 28 I believed my faith was strong until we find ourselves in the most intimate of spaces to have to use it.
I miscarried, it sound so poetic coming off my lips because it was finite. Right? It had given me something to chose as concrete and then make a plan again. It was something tangible that my mind, body and soul could wrap around but it still cut like the whips with fine tooth nails that ripped the skin of my ancestors. It was the paradise that Israelites was promised but never given.
I had read miscarriage post with so much disconnect and with the fake smile we give the white folks at target acting like I understand the bout of it, but I didn’t. I guess I was secretly happy it had never happened to me, but my day had come. & even then like all I tossed it like a lay up saying “at least I wasn’t too far” acting like that phrase was bandaid that would heal the spirit of the truth of there was a DEAD BABY, but not a baby at all.
I suffered a blighted ovum which meant that the embryo never formed. That it attached, but due to some scientific shit, it had never formed. No, I don't discount my experience of having a real baby, but my mind goes back too the thought of at least it wasn't a baby at all which doesn't take away from the void of being pregnant and still I made jokes like Murphy to myself to cope with “well if Beyoncé had one” trying to pull myself from the painful place of question which is WHY ME!? Embarrassed because now I would have grieve publicly because my black ass wants to be a influencer?! Tf 4 years of HS to graduate salutatorian, 4 years of college and 18 months of a masters program for me to sizzle down to my aspirations to be a influencer whew, but back to the blog. I miscarried. & even now thinking and rewriting I know that publicly is only what I decide to give the world of my story of negro spiritual "I won't complain"
I haven’t processed it. I guess I’m trying to find a miracle in it. Some religious or scientific reason for this happening. I've had some good days where I feel like this was "Gods plans" and other days I am doing the research to understand my body more and what it does to protect me because ultimately whether we admit it or not, that's what it does.
To the women like myself, I say don’t let this put fear in your heart. Try again for you are magical as shit to bring life from one realm into another. Live in your moment of extreme sadness and full out what ifs, live in your self doubt but only for small moments. Fight back, but prepare for your blessing is on the way.
I think about the promise God made to Sarah that she would have a baby. I think about how she had got fed up with God and manufactured her own plan to obtain a son, Ishmeal from her maid. Then at 90 years old God granted Sarah the desires of her heart.
Waiting is believing and believing is breaking through enough to see what God has told you. I am the womb man who never wanted to kids, my desire and love for myself told me that, but now I am womb man who longs for children well more. & I know if God kept his promise to Sarah, mine is kept.