Disclaimer: If you’re not in for something upsetting, don’t continue to read on. If you’re ready to read a raw reality, forge ahead.

I was pregnant.

I am pregnant.

But…

The fetus is not growing.

Next week, I have to undergo a D&C (dilation and curettage) and have it removed from my body.

Until then, I have to carry around hopelessness, grief, anger, and lost potential inside my physical and emotional self for 8 days.

Why the wait?

Well, I’m busy serving God, as the klay kodesh (holy vessel) of my people during these Holy Days… Can’t think of anything more messed up than this reality. Never did I ever think this could be my reality. I knew it was possible, but I didn’t want to believe that while I’m serving the Holy One, I’m also getting punched in the gut, repeatedly.

My right mind knows that bad things happen to good people. You, the Creator, are not responsible for this. You are our strength, comfort, and surrender in these times… but I can’t help and be pissed and disappointed… and You, the Master of the Universe, while I don’t blame You, You are not exempt from my feelings.

We’ve been through enough. It took almost 3 years to conceive this baby. We did everything and more that was asked of us. We prayed. We dreamed. We hoped. We also injected thousands of dollars in drugs, underwent multiple tests and procedures, and put every emotion and aspiration into it.

I thought, I’ve been given the gift of infertility to help better comfort others who are struggling.

A miscarriage too? Really? I couldn’t have been empathetic without losing my own baby?

It’s going to take me a while.

It’s insanely unfathomable to have to serve in my role at this, the holiest, most heart opening time of the year. Somehow, I’ll stand tall and be there for my community. It’s not just my job, it’s my life.

So is life… it’s not perfect. It’s not always sunny. This is the dark side. This is where you see the human side of your clergy. We can understand where you are coming from because, as you can see, we are just like you.

Many of you have been and continue to be sensitive and understanding. You have asked what you can do. Please know how much we appreciate your love and concern.

While we cannot say Kaddish for an unborn child, what we do need is time to process, reflect, and navigate a different reality.

What I need is space.

Please don’t ask how I am, try to hug me, or call (I’m not answering). I’m terrible, and I don’t want to cry anymore. I appreciate your concern, please don’t pity me. I’m not going to ask for anything, but please know how much I appreciate the sustenance and support that my family and friends have offered and brought over.

Please understand that emails are not being answered for the next few days and your needs may need to be met by my clergy partner.

Please realize this is a loss for my family. My chazzband is also struggling and needs some space.

Please know, this is not a misdiagnosis, we’ve seen the same scans for two weeks. So, please don’t suggest it. It actually makes it worse.

This is real, not harsh. This is how we cope.

We will survive this. We will move forward. We will try again. We will be parents… soon.

As for the Days of Atonement… let this be the worst one we ever have to experience, and let it soon be in the rear view mirror.

For my transgressions, I sincerely apologize. Truly.

May we all be sealed for a wonderful year.

May our fast not be easy, but instead, meaningful.

May we all have a fruitful 5779.