This isn’t a blog post I wanted to write, because this isn’t something I thought – or hope – would happen to me. But sometimes life has a way of surprising you.
I found out I was pregnant shortly after Christmas. As a hilarious pregnancy announcement online said, “We’re pregnant! Don’t be sad for us – it’s on purpose.” We were incredibly excited. Over-the-moon excited.
We knew there was a chance of miscarriage – there always is – but we didn’t think on it too much. We told our families. We dreamed big dreams. We basked in the excitement of it all.
I’m not going to take you through the messy details, but about two weeks after finding out, or when I was about 7 weeks along, that all came crashing down. I found myself in the ER at 3 AM, bleeding a lot and in a lot of pain. The ER doc, who I think would have rather have told me I lost a leg, delivered the terrible news to Brandon and I: miscarriage.
When I found out I was pregnant, I remember consciously thinking that if anything were to happen to my pregnancy, I’d tell people. I live with mental illness and work for a sexual assault prevention nonprofit, so I’m around stigmatized issues all day, every day. I’m passionate about bring stigmatized issues into the light. So after I recovered from two days straight of crying, napping, eating my feelings, and crying more, I started thinking: what exactly did I want to say?
I don’t have any wisdom about this. I’m only two weeks removed from one of the most traumatizing events of my life, and am still figuring out how to navigate it. After some thought, I realized what I want to say is A) this happened to me so B) you’re not alone and C) here’s what I’ve learned so far.
What I’ve Learned So Far About Miscarriage
I’ve learned through talking to friends and family that this happens far more often than I realized. Almost everyone I’ve talked to has had a miscarriage themselves or knows someone who has. For how little it’s talked about, it’s incredibly common. I – and anyone who else who has experienced pregnancy loss – am far from alone. Most of those people have gone on to have healthy pregnancies, often two or more. It sucks, but there’s hope.
I’ve also learned that it’s one of the most devastating losses you can experience. There’s no funeral, no body, no evidence that this person existed, but you feel the loss all the same: the loss of your high hopes for this new little person, the loss of your joy, the loss of a life.
If your parent or sibling dies, people understand your grief. Because miscarriage is invisible, it’s hard for others to understand. How could you love something so much you never even met, that wasn’t even a “person” yet? Gosh, if I could tell you, I would. All I can say is you DO, and the loss feels just as real as the loss of someone who walked the earth.
(We have been BLESSED with amazing family and friends who have grieved with us, but not everyone who experiences miscarriage is understood in their suffering. If that’s you, whether it just happened or happened a long time ago, I see you. And I feel your sadness.)
The process of miscarriage itself is also devastating. Watching your body expel what used to be your womb, your safe place for your little future child, is the most awful thing. It feels a lot like your body has betrayed you. It’s graphic and terrible and far from quick, a daily reminder for about a week of what you had and what you lost.
What I’ve Learned So Far About Myself
I remember early on in my very short pregnancy thinking about what I’d do if I had a miscarriage. In my mind, I had no idea how I’d go on. When I tried to visualize what life would be like if the unspeakable happened, I couldn’t see anything at all.
Fast forward to two weeks past my worst nightmare coming true, and I’m still here. I’m getting dressed, taking care of basic life tasks, and going to work every day like a normal human being. I’m still sad a lot of days. I still cry at least once a day. But, what I’ve learned about myself through this process is that I am a LOT more resilient than I thought I was. I am capable of surviving incredible grief.
Not only am I capable of withstanding the emotional pain that comes with loss, but I have been able to do it without the aid of medication. I’ve taken low-dose anti-anxiety meds since college. When I found out I was pregnant, my sister-in-law/nurse midwife told me that I couldn’t take them while pregnant, so I quickly tapered off my dosage.
For years now, medication has been my safety net. I’ve been able to rest easy knowing that as long as I take it, my anxiety can’t come at me full-force. I experienced the hardest loss of my life without medication, and I’m still standing. No panic attacks. No major mishaps.
I can’t even tell you what a victory this is.
(Relatedly, because I am a nerd, one of the things that kept me going in those first few days post-miscarriage was a study I learned about in a psych class in college. Researchers studied a group of people who won the lottery and a group of people who had recently become paralyzed due to horrible accidents. Within six months, the two groups were equally happy. The lesson: grief, trauma, and pain won’t define you forever. You’ll bounce back. And I’m getting there, very slowly but surely.)
This experience also taught me that I definitely do want to be a mom. Brandon has wanted kids since he can remember. If you know my husband, you know his love of golf, khakis, and complaining about “kids these days.” He’s already fully embraced the Dad role.
I, on the other hand, have taken awhile to come alongside him. Maybe it was my love of last-minute travels and being able to pursue my career unhindered or my fear of the whole pregnancy thing, but it took me much longer to decide I was ready to think about being a mom.
When I can’t make a hard decision, Brandon has this way of helping me choose: he puts both fists behind his back and one of my “options” in each hand. I choose a hand, he tells me which option I picked, and either I’m happy, which means that’s the right option, or I’m instantly disappointed, which means I should choose the other one.
This experience was a little like that. Only when I lost the pregnancy did I realize how much I wanted it. Now I know for sure.
What I’ve Learned So Far About God
Christians like to say “we live in a fallen world,” and when you’ve been in the church long enough, you really don’t think about what it means. Yes, there’s sin. Blah, blah, blah. Through this experience, I for the first time truly understood what that means, how horrible and awful our world is because of sin.
Don’t get me wrong; I don’t wear rose-colored glasses. I spend 2-3 hours per day at my job reading news articles about sexual assault. I know the world is a horrible place. But there’s something about experiencing such a devastating, unjustifiable, seemingly unfair loss that drives the point home: this world SUCKS. Because of sin, this world is a horrific place where miscarriages happen, car crashes kill innocent people, and all manner of terrible things befall the good and the wicked alike.
This has strengthened my faith so much, as I’ve seen first-hand what a gift Jesus Christ was and is. God knew that Adam and Eve’s sin would produce such a horrible world, but He also provided a way to escape it. He provided us a hope that lives beyond this messed-up earth. And in the days following my miscarriage, and still today, that’s all I can hold onto. Because this world is an awful place.
I’ve learned that God’s peace is crazy stuff. As we drove to the ER at 3 AM on that morning, I knew. I knew it was over. And yet, I felt a strange sense of calm. I didn’t cry, I didn’t panic. I was just calm. And anyone who knows me well knows that’s a rare occurrence, even on a good day.
Even in the days following, as I struggled with heartache, grief, and every other negative emotion in the book, I still felt peace. I knew that God was in control. And as much as what was happening to me felt unbearable, I knew that my God saw me in my grief and had a plan.
That’s not something I would have expected, because it’s not something I could do myself. I didn’t pray or read my way into peace, though I did lots of praying and reading scripture in the days after; God freely gave it. And I couldn’t have survived this experience without it.
So that’s what I’ve learned so far from this horrible experience. While it’s been unbearably painful at times, it’s also grown me in ways I wouldn’t have expected. Already in the last two weeks, I have seen flashes of God’s behind-the-scenes work as He prepares something great for us. I know it’s coming. We just have to be patient. Thank goodness we can hang our hat – and our hope – on that.
Phew. This was a doozy. If you stuck with me to the end, thanks a million. It feels incredible to bare your soul and to be heard. If you’ve experienced miscarriage, too, and want to drop me a message, feel free. Hearing about other people’s experiences makes me feel less alone and more hopeful for the future.
And if you see me IRL, don’t feel awkward about bringing it up or asking how we’re doing. I wouldn’t have written a blog about it if I wasn’t ready to talk. Really, it’s okay. <3
It’s again been a long time since I blogged. Exactly two months in fact. Oops. Now that life is a bit less crazy, I’m hoping to blog at least twice a month, if not more often. I’m putting that out in the world. Hold me to it. Anyway, I figured a good segue back into blogging would be sharing some life updates. A lot has happened in the Rosty household as of late.
First off, two days after my last post, I started a new job. I now work as the Communications Manager for The Blue Bench, Denver’s only sexual assault prevention and care center. It’s the coolest job ever, and despite going from working at home with Thor to a 45-minute commute and a full-time office job, I have never been happier.
What my organization does (because people always wonder!) is a few things. First, we help survivors of sexual assault connect with whatever resources they might need, whether it’s help finding a new place to live after being attacked by a family member or therapy services, which we also offer. Second, we go into schools, businesses, bars, and anywhere else that invites us and talk about consent, being an active bystander, and preventing sexual assault.
My job involves promoting all of that on social media, email, and everywhere else. I’m also in charge of event planning, which is new to me, and graphic design, which I absolutely love and could do all day, erryday. I’m learning, I’m growing, and I get to work every day with a group of boss women who are committed to creating a better world for other women. Like a friend put it, “You get to do a job that you like, using the skills you went to school for, and you’re actually making money doing it. That’s the dream.”
November-December 31 were insanity as I both worked my new, full-time job and finished up all of my freelance engagements. I didn’t want to leave my clients hanging so I gave them until the end of the year, which meant frantically working lunches at the Starbucks down the street from my office, trying to keep all of the spinning plates that were my life up in the air. I’ve now wrapped everything up and am excited to just be doing ONE job. This may be the first time in my career I’ve done that, hence the “now that life is a bit less crazy” comment.
The holidays were lovely. We had the good fortune of everyone coming up to Denver to see US instead of us driving to WY to see family. Christmas Day was spent eating prime rib in our pajamas and watching movies, and New Years’ was spent with Brandon’s family, exploring ALLL the kid things in Denver with our nieces and nephew.
Sidenote, Thor wore a Christmas sweater on Christmas Day. I know you want to see photos. Here they are.
We started 2019 off with getting in a car accident New Years’ Day that totaled said brand-new car. Totally not our fault and totally devastating. Thank goodness that car was AMAZING and kept us incredibly safe despite hitting another vehicle at 35 miles per hour and having the airbags deploy. 10/10, would recommend an Acura.
As usual, God is awesome and provided us with the funds from our insurance settlement to get something different, but we’re still mourning the loss of Stella the Acura. Oh Stella, we hardly knew ye.
The start of 2019 has also brought a lot of heartache. I don’t feel ready to share details yet (and not sure I will), but if you have a quick sec, we’d appreciate your prayers. We’re doing okay, but it’s been a hard year already. As one of my best friends said, “Maybe this is 2018 getting in its last word.” Darn it, let’s hope so.
That’s what’s going on with us. Excited to get back to blogging more frequently. Thor is too, he says. He has a lot of thoughts about The Wall.
The year was 2016. It was Christmastime, and I knew I had to change something about my life. That past July, I had gotten married and moved in with my husband. I was completely, for the first time in my life, 100% in control of my life and of what we ate. And yet, I had only gained weight since we got married. I thought I was doing an okay job of eating healthy, but obviously something wasn’t working.
This wasn’t the first time I’d had trouble with my weight; I’d struggled with it all of my life. Never feeling completely in control of it, I’d resigned myself to a life of struggling with food, emotional eating, and maintaining a healthy weight.
After seeing a ton of commercials for Weight Watchers and knowing some people who had tried it, I bought my membership at the end of 2016 and started the program on New Year’s Eve. It was nothing short of life-changing.
I’m a very data-driven person, and so “eating healthy” always seemed too nebulous to me – how was I supposed to know what “healthy enough” looked like? Somewhere, there had to be a sweet spot between only eating kale and living on pizza; I just didn’t know how to find it.
Weight Watchers, if you’re not familiar, assigns, every food a point value. You’re assigned a certain number of points per day based on your weight, gender, and height, and you can eat whatever you want as long as you keep within your allotted points. Lean meats, veggies, eggs, and fruit are “free.”
The WW point system was exactly the guidance I needed. It taught me what balance looked like; I could budget my points for a night out by eating healthier earlier in the day, and feel good about a few cocktails or dessert because I knew I had the points for them. It also taught me what healthy eating looked like. I hadn’t realized how many of the “healthy” foods I was eating were packed with hidden sugars and calories.
The point system opened my eyes to living a balanced lifestyle, and with it, I excelled. I lost 40 pounds within about a year and a half, and felt amazing.
…and 40 pounds down. I’m the one in the floral (I know, we all look the same).
Fast forward to earlier this year. I’d been yo-yoing between the same five pounds or so for months. I was hitting a bit of a plateau, which is normal, but was also struggling with waning motivation and a schedule which didn’t allow for eating perfectly-prepped meals at home every day like I was before.
In addition, I’d been struggling with some skin and stomach issues. A friend of mine recommended trying the Whole 30 to figure out if the causes of my healthy issues were dietary, and I hoped that the program would not only give me some answers but would kickstart my motivation to eat healthy.
Whole 30, for those of you blessed souls who have not yet tried it, is an elimination diet that eliminates just about anything that could cause your body to be unhappy, including sugar, grains, beans, dairy, soy, and alcohol. You go without them for 30 days, then slowly reintroduce them to figure out which, if any, are causing trouble.
I went without coffee, spent way too much money on Whole 30-approved sugarless bacon at Whole Foods, and stuck to the program (I quit a little early though because I was moving and also was tired of not eating beans). At the end of the program, I learned that I needed to avoid dairy completely, and that beans probably weren’t my best friend (sadness! I love beans!). But the biggest wake-up call of Whole 30 was eating real food.
Because of how Weight Watchers calculates points, it tends to be of benefit points-wise to eat fat-free, sugar-free foods. Fats like oils, nuts, and dried fruit have high point values, so when I was on Weight Watchers, I largely avoided them in favor of fat-free vinaigrettes and other low-cal snacks.
Whole 30 was a refreshing change. I was eating fresh fruits and veggies, lots of nuts, real fats, and meats I normally avoided on WW, like pork and beef.
After Whole 30, I tried to go back on Weight Watchers while incorporating some of what I learned from the program, but struggled with consistency and motivation yet again. I was tired of counting points and constantly stressing about staying within my points limit even though I was feeding my body with good stuff. I felt like the point system had become a burden, not a tool.
I made the hard decision a few weeks ago to quit Weight Watchers. While I’d always thought I’d be a lifetime member (many people are!), I’ve realized that WW isn’t a lifetime solution for me. I want to be able to eat like a normal person, without tracking everything all of the time. I want to have a healthy relationship with food where I think of it as fuel, not as added stress. Most of all, I don’t want to feel penalized for eating real, whole foods
That’s why I’ve decided to go Paleo, or rather, Paleo-ish. Paleo means something different depending on who you ask, but for me it means no grains, soy, dairy, beans, and limited added sugars.
I know that sounds terrible, but so far, I’m absolutely loving it. I’m eating food that tastes good, fueling my body well, and still losing weight. When I splurge one day, I don’t seem to have a problem getting up the next day and getting right back on track.
They say the best diet is the one you can stick to, and I think that’s absolutely right. After almost a two-year weight loss and health journey, I think I may have finally found my perfect fit.
Don’t get me wrong; I still love Weight Watchers. I feel that it’s an amazing tool for anyone who is struggling to lose weight or has no idea where to start, and I highly recommend it to anyone who asks me how I’ve lost weight. I just feel like it’s no longer the right tool for this next season of my life.
Anyone else Paleo? Or a Weight Watchers fan? Tell me about your experience.
Here we go….the first “real” post on the rebooted A Cup of Tay. I feel like there’s a lot of pressure to perform, so be gentle on me, guys.
For those of you that are my IRL friends or follow me on the Facebooks or the Instagrams, you know that I’ve lived with my husband in Laramie, Wyoming, for the last two years, and moved to Denver about three months ago. While I’ve lived in a big city before (college in Philly) and have spent a lot of time in Denver, living in the middle of a city NOT as a college student is very different than living in a small college town in Wyoming. Or at least that’s my experience so far.
Some of the key differences I’ve observed from my short tenure as a Denverite:
In Wyoming, people will literally stop traffic to let you in if you’re merging onto the interstate. In Denver, if you cut someone off in traffic in a PARKING LOT, they will loudly yell the F-word at you before throwing their lit cigarette out the car window at you. Or flip you off. Denver people love doing that almost as much as they love rooting for the Broncos.
In Wyoming, if you’re trying to parallel park, there’s a good chance someone nearby will spot you and help you park. In Denver, if you park poorly in your apartment complex in your very large truck that is very hard to park, someone will leave a friendly note on your car that says “You need parking lessons. It’s BAD.” I didn’t know parking lessons existed. Apparently they do.
In Wyoming (and especially in Laramie), if you need anything that you can’t find at the local Wal-Mart (or if you’re lucky, Kmart), you’re out of luck. In Denver, you can’t swing your arms around without hitting literally any store you can think of en masse. Seriously. I needed to buy a desk for our apartment and I typed “Target” into Google Maps and five came up, all 10 minutes away from where I live. It’s almost choice overload, I tell ya.
In Denver, you have to listen to the radio to get the traffic report (like you would the weather report) to know how long it will take you to get across the street. In Wyoming, a traffic jam only happens when a herd of wild turkeys decide to cross the road or when a semi truck blows over because of Wyoming’s gale-force winds (yes, this happens!).
In Denver, you can find about any type of cuisine you want, including cuisine for any diet you might be following. I had a paleo muffin the other day while out and about. It tasted like blueberry chalk but it was the novelty of the thing, ya know? In Wyoming, they sell shirts that says “vegetarian is an old Indian word meaning ‘bad hunter.'” That says about all you need to know about Wyoming’s understanding of alternative diets.
In Denver, they have a chain of gas stations called “Stinker.” I kid you not, the mascot is a skunk. In Wyoming, they have a classily-named chain called Kum & Go. I need not explain further. And I cannot decide which is weirder/worse.
So far, I’m loving Denver and Brandon is learning to love it…he’ll get used to all the people. I hope. Have you ever moved to a new city? How was it different than your old city? Share your sassy observations with me. Oh and if you’re from Denver/Wyoming, has anyone ever thrown a lit cigarette at you? Wondering if I’m just REALLY bad at driving in parking lots.
For those of you that have known me for awhile, you’ll remember the days of old when the original A Cup of Tay was a thing. I dished out sassy posts weekly, and then less often. I shut down A Cup of Tay temporarily, then brought it back…and eventually, I shut A Cup of Tay down for good.
There was crying. There was complaining. There was rioting in the streets (okay, maybe not). The point is, people weren’t happy about it.
And to be honest, I wasn’t either. I shut down A Cup of Tay because I felt like I’d reached a writing rut. Blogging no longer felt natural or exciting, and I was struggling to put together my trademark humorous content for readers. So I called it quits.
Thinking maybe I just needed to shift focus, I started an alternative blog last year, Grace and Grace Alone, where I planned to blog about my faith. The problem was, I wasn’t feeling any more inspired to write about my faith than I was about anything else, and blogging about just faith-related topics felt too restrictive.
Lately, I’ve been feeling the itch to write again. I miss it – a lot! During a call with one of my best friends a few weeks ago, I could her her sister yelling in the background as per usual, “Where’s A Cup of Tay? When are you starting A Cup of Tay again?”
Usually I laugh and tell her it’s a thing of the past, but this time it got me thinking. Yes, it’s a little weird to revive a blog like 3 times. But it’s also silly not to give the people what they want (ha) and to pick something back up that I enjoy.
I feel like a lot has changed since last time A Cup of Tay made its appearance, so I’m going to start with a clean slate, not uploading any of my old posts. Maybe I’ll slip one or two in every once in awhile (Brandon wrote like a four-part story of our relationship, for example, and it’s freaking adorable). I’m going to blog about what I love blogging about, which is whatever the heck I want. But really though, you’ll probably find posts on married life, my faith, Thor the Dog (he may write some posts of his own!), my weight loss journey, and anything else I feel like I can make humorous enough to share.
For those of you who have become friends with me since I closed down A Cup of Tay, thanks for reading. And for those of you who have, in your own way, cried, complained, or yelled through a phone at me to keep writing, thank you.