Wouldn’t this have been a great photo and title for Wordless Wednesday? It was so tempting to post nothing but a photo today, but it turns out that I have way too many words in my head and I’m exhausted from working so hard to keep them in there. Totally and completely exhausted.
So today I am going to write. Not about my own recipes, because I haven’t felt much like cooking, much less developing recipes, in a really long time. I’m not going to write about my recent travels or the awesome cookbooks and kitchen products that have been showing up at my door lately. Not about our CSA box that has been supplying us with local organic produce and eggs week after week. Not about our summer garden that exploded and filled our lives with cucumbers, tomatoes, squash, and chiles and is now almost completely gone. And I’m certainly not going to write about the growing compost pile where many of those vegetables ended up because I have had no desire to cook or eat them. I’m not even going to write about the beautiful fresh Alaskan salmon that was sent to me over the summer to experiment with and has instead been taking up most of my freezer for the last couple of months. I wish I wanted to write about those things. I really do know how lucky I am to have a job that allows me to be creative in the kitchen and travel and test new products. But right now, none of it means that much to me and food blogging is going to have to wait.
Instead, I’m going to write about miscarriage. It’s the thing that I’ve been trying not to write about for a year now, although the truth is that I have wanted to write about it. Desperately. The thing about miscarriage is that there’s a rule that we’ve all learned that it shouldn’t be talked about with acquaintances or strangers. That’s why you’re not supposed to share news about a pregnancy until after the first trimester – if you talk openly about a pregnancy and it ends in miscarriage, it’s impossible to keep it a secret. While I understand the initial discomfort in having to tell people about the loss, I have found that it’s much more uncomfortable to keep it a secret and try to carry on as if your life hasn’t been ripped apart and turned upside down. Think about how many women go through this (it’s a surprisingly large percentage) and how many of them immediately go back to work, or to the grocery store, or out with friends, enduring small talk and forcing smiles, all while trying to pretend that their world hasn’t just been turned upside down. Continue reading →