I have written about 9 blog posts over the last couple weeks to share with you, but I have decided that they are all crap. I wrote about my birthday, I wrote about my quarter-life crisis, I wrote about living with my parents, but what I really wanted to write about was that I recently had a miscarriage.

Eric and I found out 2 weeks ago when I was 7 weeks pregnant. Some of my closest friends don’t even know yet, but I needed to share it now. I have been wanting to write about it for awhile, but everyone told me not to because apparently it makes people “uncomfortable.” I’m not sure why, but I just really feel the need to tell people. It’s a part of me now, and I can’t understand why no one else really talks about it. I didn’t want to consult Google, I wanted to consult a friend. Now every time I see someone I remotely know, I want to scream, “I HAD A MISCARRIAGE,” in their face.

Not a great conversation starter, by the way.

It’s like this dirty little secret that so many women have, but no one talks about. If you have read this blog before, though, you know that I’m not very good at keeping my life a secret. I’m an over-sharer, and I don’t feel bad about it. The only thing I wanted to hear other people say after I found out about the miscarriage was, “Me too.” I didn’t want their sympathy, I didn’t want to hear that they were sorry for our loss, and I didn’t want to hear that we could get pregnant again someday. I just wanted to know that it happened to someone else and that it was okay.

When it first happened, I just felt numb. I wasn’t sad, and I wasn’t happy. It happened, and I didn’t know how to feel about it. Now I am starting to feel angry. I’m not angry that it happened to me, I’m just angry in general. I’m angry that Tippy isn’t here, I’m angry that I’m pretty sure my nose is getting bigger, and I’m angry that the falafel I had for lunch today gave me bad breath. So far my grieving process has consisted of putting on red lipstick and singing, “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together” by Taylor Swift at the top of my longs, and watching every episode of The Real Housewives of New Jersey. It’s really hard to feel bad about your life after watching Teresa and Juicy Joe on the Reunion show. Even though we lost the baby, there were several good things that came from being pregnant for a short period of time. It brought Eric and me closer, I lost ten pounds (Hello, inside of my belly button. It’s been awhile.), and I learned a lot about pregnancy so I will be better educated for the next time.

Now that I have told the truth about what has really been going on in my life lately, I can go back to writing about my quarter-life crisis and my new fully formed frontal lobe (Happy 25th Birthday to me).

So there you have it. I had a miscarriage. I am okay. Life will go on.

And if it ever happens to any of you, you will at least know one person who can say, “Me too.”