My miscarriage took a lot out of me. I was busy dealing with my emotional state and healing, that I didn’t notice the neglect my body was getting. Although I did go to the doctor and he cleared me of any infections or problems, I wasn’t facing the fact that I felt like my body failed me.

As I turned twenty eight last year, I’ve noticed some minimal changes on how my body was working. My metabolism had slowed down, and I couldn’t do the same things I used to in my early twenties without any consequences the next day. (For instance, hangovers were hell. I could no longer stay up drinking until 3am and then wake up at 7am for an exam/work like it was nothing.)

I would still be confident with my body every time we see the doctor since they always ruled me out as healthy. So when J and I started trying for a baby, I naturally thought we’d conceive right away. When a few months passed and I still wasn’t pregnant, I started having my doubts.

Why wasn’t I getting pregnant? Was I doing something wrong? Is there something wrong with me? What I didn’t realize was the underlying thought in the back of my mind that just kept getting louder as the months went by: Something is wrong with my body.

I had researched and read multiple books on conception. We’ve done everything and more in trying Nothing was working. Why? WHY?

Then we found out I was pregnant. I was in disbelief. When it sunk in, I was so excited but I felt so uncomfortable. I was happy, but scared that this was too good to be true. I prayed so much and focused on being healthy for our baby.

On January 17th, we lost our baby. I was crushed. We knew the statistics but you just hope and pray that you wouldn’t be one of them. My pregnancy was the 1 in 4 that ended in miscarriage. We knew there was nothing that could’ve been done to prevent or stop it. We knew all the facts.

What I didn’t know was that I was starting to feel betrayed by my own body. I didn’t even notice that I stopped looking at myself before a shower or when I changed. Every time someone took a picture of me, I would feel disgusted looking at myself.

A few days ago, my husband proposed that day I got out of work early. I realized I had no excuse to say no, so I agreed. I considered just doing a mediocre workout: just stay on one machine and be on my phone. I planned to just run the clock just to say I’ve worked out that day.

I don’t know when during the workout exactly but I feel like God spoke to me and pushed me to do a serious workout. I ended up doing everything I could until we were out of time. I felt sore, but great.

I realized how I haven’t been good to my own body and it shows! I realized I owed my body an apology for neglecting it. It needed me the most when it was healing from our loss, but I chose to detach myself. I know now that I love my body and I will fight for it to get better.

It will take time, and it won’t be easy but the love is definitely back — that’s the start.