(Plus Mommyish loves listicles–even listicles about miscarriage despite the fact my husband thinks it’s creepy. Plus they appreciate my love of animated gifs. My piece even includes a gif from Jane the Virgin! AND LIZ LEMON IN A SNUGGIE.)
Needless to say I’m a little bit excited about this (ok a LOT!) because it is my first official byline. And nearly a paid one at that! (Alas, I wrote a previous version of the piece on this blog so they can’t pay me. But just the idea that I could have been paid makes me want to dance a little jig!)
Thanks for reading, as always. Have a great weekend!
I know what you are thinking: a listicle about miscarriage? Yes. Because if you are going to write a dark humor piece on miscarriage, it pretty much demands a listicle format.
One in three pregnancies folks. And nobody talks about it. Ready for some truth-telling?
Quick disclaimer: I ended up not having a medical intervention so my experience might be a little different than those who do have a procedure. You may now continue with the saddest post ever.
You will suddenly be Chubby McChubbykins and have no clothes to wear and hell no you aren’t putting on those maternity pants.
You will literally be walking around Target while having a miscarriage. It turns out that if you don’t have a medical procedure you will instead experience the world’s longest, saddest period. Expelling the products of conception is process, not a single event. So, you will find yourself in Target, trying to determine the cheapest paper towels that retain that handy perforation feature, and it will hit you: Hello fellow shoppers, I am standing in Target while having a miscarriage. You might shed some tears. Let’s hope the lady next to you thinks you are just really torn-up over these paper towel prices. (See what I did there?)
You have to take a freaking pregnancy test. To confirm that you are no longer pregnant. AS IF YOU DON’T ALREADY KNOW. This is officially the worst pregnancy test you have ever taken.
You can’t have sex for a while because you have to make sure your cervix is freaking closed. Trust me, this won’t be a problem. You won’t be ready for a trip to funky town for a while. Your body physiologically is like, whoa, what just happened. I was pregnant, now I’m not pregnant. I can’t keep up. In the meantime, I’ll just sit over here and knit while watching some funny cat videos. (Note: I did not actually knit while watching cat videos. But now that I write this, it sounds rather pleasant to my non-sexy-time self.)
Your spouse will be ready for a trip to funky town way before you are. This one wrote itself, didn’t it?
For you mother-warriors who have experienced miscarriage, anything else you would add to the list?
(And to answer my husband’s question, no, my next post will not be “The five things nobody tells you about Genocide!” I’m pretty sure Buzzfeed already published that one.)