I wore light gray slacks that hung just right. I was in the middle of a big city on the 21st floor of a high-rise building, in a meeting and the cramping came out of nowhere. I barely made it out of the meeting and to the restroom, only to learn I had passed my 2nd miscarriage in two months time. Now this was the kind of experience where you want to cry but you can’t stop laughing at how the fuck are you going to get out of this. Like, is this real, am I really doing this?
My tiny little thong had not helped me to catch really much of anything, my light gray slacks were half covered in blood. Blood was everywhere. So I cleaned up my little stall.
Put on my sunglasses and lip gloss of course. Held my head up high, took the packed elevator down 21 stories, walked across a crowded lobby, out into the city and down 4 city blocks to the parking garage where my car was parked with blood all over my lower half.
I wanted to run, but I kept a steady pace with my head held high. I got to my car and burst into tears and laughter all at once, kind of like a crazy person. I had made it to my car! I called my husband and could hardly tell him as I was laugh-crying too much.
My #HIO was at an all time high, this was my lowest of the low for me. My body was not able to support another living thing when I was not taking care of myself. This was the white (really more of a reddish color) flag, STOP.
Just STOP treating me this way. My body yelled as loud as it needed to. It was trying to get my attention. I wish I had listened to it earlier, before it had to yell so loudly.
This message I GOT.
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