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.