I have to admit, I’ve been in a funk lately. A week after running my half-marathon on Labor Day weekend, I found out that I was pregnant. A happy surprise, no doubt, since we had JUST started trying – literally – but it was not meant to be. About two weeks later, I had a miscarriage. The ultrasound showed that the baby wasn’t developing properly, so that was a comfort of its own, but the experience still hurt nonetheless. I share this with you, not to gain sympathy, but to raise awareness on how something that seemed to not impact me so much on the outside actually seemed to have impacted me greatly on the inside.
I have always considered myself a strong person, and with my first pregnancy, I never missed a beat with exercising the entire time. However, after my miscarriage, something inside me changed. Sure, I was upset. I understood that there wasn’t anything that I could have done that would have changed the outcome of that pregnancy, but that didn’t stop the internal dialogue in my head: “Maybe I wasn’t thankful enough when I found out since it was such a surprise? Would it happen again? What if my first pregnancy was a fluke and I’m not destined to have another successful one?” If you’ve ever experienced a miscarriage of your own, I’m sure you had very similar thoughts, questions, and arguments with yourself over what went wrong.
After my miscarriage, we didn’t really stop trying to conceive again (I’m a planner, after all!) but my mindset was altered. I felt scared to work out, entitled to be a bit lazier than usual, worried that anything other than minimal activity would jar another developing baby out of existence. I didn’t realize it at the time, which is the scariest part in retrospect. Here I was 2 years ago, taking for granted that I had such a perfect pregnancy without any complications and working out all the time, and all of a sudden I am unconsciously afraid to do any sort of strenuous activity, which had always been part of my normal routine.
I am happy to report that we were able to conceive about 2 months later and now I am entering the 2nd trimester of another healthy pregnancy, thank God. But, sadly, I am still struggling with my motivation. I should also mention that in the time between my miscarriage and now, we also sold a house, moved in with family temporarily, bought a new house right before Christmas, and are still in the process of making it our own. Needless to say, my life has been one big ball of stress since September, but that shouldn’t be an excuse. If anything, that should be MORE of a motivation to work out the tension and give myself some “me” time.
This post isn’t here to offer any advice or support for a situation such as mine; on the contrary, this is my way of processing my own experience and explaining an issue that happens so frequently in our society (1 in 5 pregnancies!) that we never openly talk about, deal with, or handle in a healthy way. I’ve struggled with who I should tell because it’s never a comfortable conversation, but I want people to know that it’s okay to have these feelings, to be worried and scared and upset over something that “could’ve been” but wasn’t meant to, and it’s okay to fall off the horse as long as you miss the ride once you’re down. I’m here to tell you that I struggle with motivation too – no matter what the circumstances – and it takes time to find that groove again. Here’s to praying for a sense of normalcy in our crazy lives soon!