I posted on this blog exactly four months ago today. While I have continued to write every day since my miscarriage last year, I stopped publishing blog posts. I didn’t feel that I had any positive insights to share. Most of my writings were dark and depressing and I didn’t believe that they would give anyone hope. What I had written also seemed unfinished and I didn’t feel right about sharing. Instead of providing insights that would help someone continue to put one foot in front of the other, I had written a string of random thoughts without any silver linings. I made the tough decision to break my promise and I stopped my blog. It wasn’t a decision that I came to overnight but rather one of those things that happened gradually. On Saturday mornings I would sit down to publish a post and I would question the words on the screen. With each passing week the posts just did not make it to the blog.
Since my last post in February, life has handed me more than my fair share of heartache. I wake up every single morning waiting for the next bad thing to happen. Trials and tribulations are our new normal and I have come to expect the worst. We have lost grandmothers unexpectedly. We sat by and watched cancer take my mother-in-law away from us far too soon. We have faced the loss of another baby, this time with an emergency surgery due to an ectopic pregnancy. We simply cannot handle any more. It’s hard to want to push the publish button on blog posts that are full of so much negativity. They simply do no good.
I thought the miscarriage in November had taught me all of the tough lessons. Boy was I wrong! That’s the thing about life – there are endless lessons ahead for us all. There will continue to be heartache, loss and grief in my life. This won’t be the last of the bad things to come. I’ve been left with a choice and that’s the best part of it all. As I sit here ready to publish this blog post, I am faced with a choice.
Option 1: curl up in a ball, crawl into a dark hole and count all the ways that life is so unfair
Option 2: get up off my ass and move forward
I had the privilege of talking with many of my mother-in-law’s friends at her memorial service and hearing all kinds of stories about the woman that she was and the positive ways that she impacted other’s lives. It made me realize that when that day comes for me, I want to be remembered as the person who didn’t let the tough stuff stand in the way. I want my friends and family to remember me as strong and resilient. I want to leave this world better than I found it. So for those reasons, I choose option 2. I will continue to write. I probably will not publish as frequently as I had initially intended to when I started this blog. I will publish posts when I feel confident they teach the lessons that matter the most to me. Lessons of encouragement, love, passion, perseverance, and faith.
There is light at the end of that tunnel my friends, I promise.
There have been five times in my life when I remember experiencing an event that filled my heart with unconditional love.
The first was on the day I married Mr. Wonderful. Surrounded by all of our family and friends we promised to be there for one another no matter what the future held. It changed the way I looked at the world (little did we truly understand the gravity of that statement when we said our vows that day).
The 2nd was during an amazing sunset from the beach in Thailand on the last day of our honeymoon. We watched the sunset in front of us knowing at that exact moment it was rising on the other side of the world where we lived. I was amazed that we were so far away from the ones that we love but still connected through a simple daily occurrence that we often take for granted.
The 3rd was in September of 2016 when we discovered we were expecting our first child. And the 4th again in May of this year when we found out we were pregnant again after so much heartache and loss that seemed to be following us around. In just a week between sonograms our little one had grown from what looked like a small grain of rice into something more recognizable of a baby with a head and little hands.
And the 5th was yesterday during the total eclipse. There was something about the way the world stopped all around us. It was an indescribable experience. What amazed me the most about it wasn’t the event itself. It was the love that was created in my heart and the hearts of everyone who witnessed it. For a few minutes we coexisted regardless of our religious, political, sexual, cultural and social beliefs. Everyone just lived together and celebrated together. My heart was full of so much love. Just as it was on our wedding day, on our honeymoon during that sunset and those times I saw the babies that we had created.
Yesterday reminded me that this universe is so much bigger than any one of us. We were all meant to coexist. I realized that, just like the eclipse, this life is fleeting. Like we experienced with the loss of two children, nothing in this life is guaranteed. Yes, it’s important to have conviction. However, sometimes we really should take off our safe viewing glasses and look around. What happened around us during the minutes of totality would have been missed if I had kept those glasses on and only looked up. When I looked around and saw the views and celebrations that surrounded me, that is when I was humbled. Maybe we can all find some moments in the days ahead that humble us a little more.
Let’s fill our hearts with love,
It has been entirely too long since I’ve published a blog post. I have at least 60 written posts but I haven’t felt like any of them are ready to be shared. Frankly, they’re depressing. I’ve been trying to plug positives into them and to find a way to share the silver lining, but I’ve been struggling. I mean REALLY struggling. I’m not sleeping, still. It either takes me hours to fall asleep and then I get maybe two hours in or I fall fast asleep at 9pm and am wide awake by 3am.
But that’s not the purpose of this post. I told myself today that I had to publish something. Even if it wasn’t perfect. Even if it didn’t follow my prescribed order. Continue reading “The Lenten Positive Acts Challenge”
After two weeks of soul-searching, uncontrollable tears, rage, nonstop prayers and a host of millions of emotions it was time, time to share our story. Today I hit the publish button on my first blog post and shared our story on Facebook for the entire world to see. I felt incredibly vulnerable in that moment. As soon as I saw the little orange notification on WordPress signifying the post was live, I stepped away to make another cup of coffee. In that moment while the Keurig made its whirring sound and I waited for my breakfast blend, I questioned myself. Had I done the right thing? What would people think? Would friends or family who didn’t hear the story from me directly be upset? Was I in danger of work colleagues walking on eggshells around me now? Maybe this was a bad idea. I needed a walk. Continue reading “Day 14: Vulnerable”
Over the last few days, I began sharing with people the story of my miscarriage. Someone told me that I was going to be okay because I was strong. They said that it must have been hard to go through the miscarriage, but even harder to talk about it and share my story. I was surprised by their perception of me. What was being said was kind, in the most innocent of ways. And I appreciated their words. But their opinion of how I was handling the circumstances and the reality of how I felt were so far removed from one another. Continue reading “Day 13: Fierce Bravery”
I stumbled upon this video twelve days after my miscarriage. Joe Biden is an amazing man so, it’s only fitting to publish this post the week that he was awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom. To learn about Joe Biden’s life and hear directly from him what it’s like to experience profound loss and grief, but still get back up and go on, it is motivating and uplifting.
Continue reading “Day 12: Brave”
I woke up this morning feeling normal. I didn’t cry, which I’m pretty sure is the first time that has happened since my miscarriage. I wasn’t sitting around waiting for the other shoe to drop or waiting for things to take a turn for the worse. I honestly felt calm, collected and like an actual human being.
At first this worried me. Continue reading “Day 11: Normal”