Friday, 17 October 2014

Belated words

October 15th was Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day.

Most of the bloggers I regularly read, and most of the people who read this blog and support me, have experienced a pregnancy loss. It's not that I don't know or often think of your stories, but I didn't exactly pause and think of how they all added up to a shared experience.

And it made me feel a bit ashamed that I didn't acknowledge October 15th.

And I know why I didn't, and it isn't because these days there is so much to do, so much to think about. It's because at about 5 weeks, I thought I was losing Ember.  I will never forget the tsunami of grief that washed over me, obliterating every flimsy defense I thought I had against the random cruelty of the universe. Now, as it turned out, Ember and I were fine. Fine. Which is wonderful, except...all I was left with was the memory of that grief. I never got to experience the healing after it. That may sound ridiculous, because...shouldn't a healthy pregnancy have been healing? Well, yes and no.  I do feel joy and gratitude and with time, it's become stronger than the....other fears and feelings. But the point is this: I have no idea how somebody actually continues to live after a pregnancy loss, except from reading your blogs. And while I try to empathize, and while your testimony and the courage to make it leaves me in awe, and aching, I'm also afraid that I don't have same courage. I feel like that black hole of grief that still exists somewhere in my universe is still waiting for me and there's no way out.

This isn't a plea for sympathy. I guess it's just something I had to say. I want to acknowledge Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness day, and I suppose that means that today, I get to face and acknowledge my fear here.  We all have to step forward from where we stand.

8 comments:

  1. You are so sweet. I think we often are as strong as we need to be - not that we were "intrinsically stronger" before things went south, but there don't seem to be many options through babyloss (and many other terrible situations) other than what looks like "being strong". Which doesn't always feel particularly strong. I'm so glad that Ember is still happily inside, though you may be right that there are other black holes waiting out there...

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    1. so true...and I suppose part of life is to learn to live with the black holes....while also celebrating being in the light....so to speak. xo

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  2. I would agree with the previous comment. It's like that with a lot of things and I have always felt uncomfortable when people tell me I'm strong because of something I did. I think most people will just power through on the set out course when they are presented with an adverse situation. You just keep moving forward, putting one foot in front of the other, and one day you realize things have become easier.
    I've had one miscarriage but I can't even compare that to what other people have gone through because I already had my son at that point. There wasn't even time to mourn and it made it a lot easier in some ways, hard in some ways too because I did feel that I needed time to stop and mourn the loss of that pregnancy. So I can understand your feelings too. Maybe once Ember is here you'll find an outlet for any feelings of anxiety or sadness related to your pregnancy that you are still harbouring inside.

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    1. Thanks Romy. :-) Hope you are doing well.

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  3. Thinking of all the ladies who have lost little ones!

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  4. You don't know your strength until you have no other choice but to live through it. I don't think it takes more courage, just necessity. I hope when Ember arrives, you can heal somewhat.

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    1. Thanks Adi :-) I do think I'm doing fine; I just question how I face reality sometimes.

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