Take the reins, please
"How can I help?"
"Can I do anything for you?"
"Let me know what you need."
Everyone I know whom I've told about my latest miscarriage has uttered some version of those phrases. And I'm exhausted by them.
It's not that I'm not appreciative of people offering to help; it's that I honestly don't know what I need right now. I don't know what to tell people, and it's overwhelming me.
My parents are in town this weekend on a previously planned trip to visit my sister, and my mother keeps buzzing about like a mosquito in my ear. "Can we come over?" "Can we see you?" "Can we meet up with you somewhere?" I honestly want her support, so I tried to coordinate meeting them for brunch... but my dad can't walk well and my brother is a picky eater who doesn't own clothes nicer than T-shirts and cotton shorts, and the first place I picked to accommodate them didn't have reservations available, and by the time I navigated all that and picked a second place I was completely drained. Add to it that I woke up this morning still leaking out pieces of my womb, and I just couldn't do it. I canceled.
Is it absolutely necessary that I orchestrate my own recovery? Do I have to be responsible for this? I feel like I'm in a deep, black pit where I'll never feel the warmth of the sun again — do I really need to be in charge right now?
I wish people would just do, not ask. On Wednesday, I called in sick to work to weather the immediate aftermath of my miscarriage, and that afternoon, one of my co-workers told me I'd be receiving a shipment of breakfast sandwiches around noon the next day. At first, I was like, how the hell am I going to go in to work tomorrow if I'm getting sandwiches delivered here, but then I realized it meant they were essentially telling me to take another day off. That was a such a huge relief. And another one of the most helpful things anyone has done for me so far is a friend Venmoing me $100 so I could make an emergency therapy session.
So, if you're wondering how to help me, send me a text that says, "Hey, I'm on my way over and I made brownies." Or "I took the liberty of making a brunch reservation for us at 11. You don't have to come, but I'd love it if you did." Or just Venmo me more therapy money.
The point is, you take the reins. My grief is unbearable, and I don't have the mental capacity for anything else right now.