I am sorry that I have been so absent from the online world for so long. Truth be told, I am missing you all terribly but have been feeling a bit overwhelmed by all the changes I’m adapting to at the moment with the new country/apartment/marriage/language/food/etc. etc. What’s more, every time I sit down to attempt a blog post, I find that I just freeze up. In truth, there is a story I’d like to tell but am not sure if it’s too personal to share here. With time, I’ve come to realize however that my voice can’t find any other words until I share these which are still overwhelming my heart.
You see, it turns out we came back from our honeymoon with more than just a marriage certificate. Completely unexpectedly, I was pregnant. And with our shock came absolute joy and excitement. We came back to Munich and began the crusade of finding the right English speaking OB/GYN (ridiculously difficult, but that’s another story), and in order to ease my early days of exhaustion and nausea, I had a perfectly soothing companion.
Melissa and I joined all these rainbow swaps on ravelry ages ago, in attempt to get more yarns for our blankies. What ended up happening to both of us though is that we realized the yarn was just too gorgeous and precious and thus it merited a project all its own. Melissa made an absolutely stunning rainbow blankie for her nephew Henry, and I saved mine for that special time when I one day became pregnant. I had even brought this precious yarn cargo personally to Germany months before my actual move, just so it’d be safely stored with Georg and I wouldn’t have to put it in a stale moving box.
For my blankie, I chose the zig-zag pram blanket pattern (and thusly got totally addicted to rippling right along with Melissa) and happily knitted away with my precious yarn. I got almost to the end, with only a whole pile of ends left to sew in, when in my 10th week, we lost the baby.
Of course there aren’t enough words to describe our devastation, I won't even try. And the strange thing about miscarriage is that, perhaps because it’s so indescribable, you find that friends and family, despite their best intentions, often don’t know what to say to you either and thus it's just not talked about. Perhaps it’s exactly because of that strange taboo that I feel compelled to share with you here. Or perhaps it’s just because I needed to say out loud:
I had a baby inside me. I saw its heart beat. We loved it dearly. And even though it wasn’t able to arrive, we will always cherish it and it will always be a part of our family.
And hopefully someday I’ll still manage to get to the end of that rainbow.
Thank you so much for listening.
Love to you all,