I never wanted to be one of those women who couldn't get over a miscarriage, but some days it hits hard, especially when it's close to the day that would have been my first Mother's Day with a kid had life not happened the way it did.
But life did happen the way it did and I had a miscarriage, not a kid; and I continue to work at making peace with it by not blaming myself or others, my job, my choices, or anything else that I deem blame-worthy. I know there are better things to do with my energy.
Yet even though I work at not placing blame, and even though karma may be teaching me a hard lesson I can't control for past regressions, and even though I believe that every single thing in life happens for a greater purpose beyond my earthly comprehension, and even though I understand that miscarriages do happen because something beyond anyone's fault wasn't right, at times I still feel a gut-churning urge to blame something...because IT'S JUST NOT FAIR, period. It is un.fuck.ing.fair., and I want something to blame and someone to pay for it.
That is what it feels like for me to live with this -- to want blind revenge -- in momentary battles of mind over matter at least; and I found the sentiment poignantly enacted by the character of Tulip (Ruth Negga) in the Season 1 finale of AMC's Preacher this past year.
I created the Preacher fan art image above because the brief and surprising exchange between the characters Jesse and Tulip spoke directly to me in a way it may not have to others; and I wanted others to have an understanding of what it can feel like to live with a miscarriage, because (1) not everybody has experienced it and doesn't understand it, and (2) the better people understand each other, the better people understand the human condition that connects everyone to each other.