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. Continue reading “Why I stopped publishing blog posts”
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 don’t know about you, but when I think about closure, I think about moving on, moving past, “getting over it” as some say. I couldn’t fathom how I would ever be able to get over this, though. As I started interacting with more and more women who had been through a similar situation, I couldn’t stop thinking about this concept of moving on. From the outside looking in it appeared that they had moved along. They were gracious with their time and shared stories of their loss and heartache but each one included a sentiment of, “it does get better”. I had a hard time understanding how they got to where they were. How was it that they could talk about their loss and their pain but still have joy in their life? Continue reading “Day 10: Closure”
I’d been told to expect certain trigger days, where the grief would come barreling at me. There’d be days, no matter how far away from the event I was, where the wind would be knocked right out of me. And the pain would be just as sharp and raw as the very first day. I expected today to be one of those days. Continue reading “Day 9: Grace”
While the grief process isn’t linear or universal, I found myself progressing through the traditional stages of grief in the prescribed order and I seemed to do so pretty quickly. I moved fairly seamlessly from the denial stage of grief straight into the arms of anger. Continue reading “Day 7: Anger”
There wasn’t much to say or write in the days that followed. Looking back there was progress made, but at the time I just felt numb. It seemed that there were no more tears left to cry and I felt as though nothing really mattered anymore. This was such a foreign feeling to me. I am not this type of person. I always have a plan. I know how to get things done and get them done efficiently. If there’s a problem, I can solve it! This concept of sitting around, not giving two shits about whether or not there’s something for dinner or if the dog gets walked or whether I ever get out of my PJs is not who I am. I’m an overachiever, but I couldn’t care less right now about achieving anything. Continue reading “Days 5 & 6: Numb”