remembering loss.

be prepared.

this is about to get really heavy. and probably sad. if you don't like sad heavy blog posts, then please go back to doing what you were before you stumbled here. i'm guessing it was pinterest. go look at happy pictures of kitchens and things you want to diy because you'll find none of that here. but, if you don't mind one heavy & sad post, then stick around.

because really, i'm doing this for me (and it isn't easy). there are many things i will not share here on this blog (or even in this post). for every 1 detail i reveal about myself there are probably 1,000 things i keep a secret. i'm like this in person, too.

but this loss, this story is something i think belongs out here. maybe someone can stumble upon it and relate.

maybe they'll know someone who went through this pain and they can read this.

or, maybe i'm just sharing my heart and it's a release for me to write this here.

*****

in november 2011, i found out i was pregnant.

it was a happy moment. happy, but scary.

then, in december 2011 i watched in shock as my body failed me. the baby died.

the experience is physically, emotionally, and mentally very painful.

it's isolating.

i have a husband who was of course saddened by this, but his body wasn't holding anything. his body didn't experience the death.

mine did.

for weeks i was on a ridiculous emotional roller coaster.

some days i would cry on and off for hours. some days, i would be fine.

sometimes someone would say something completely innocent that would remind me of my loss and i would feel it again.

sometimes people said things like "well, it won't happen again." or "maybe it wasn't meant to be" or "you'll be fine" innocent sayings that were like a knife to my heart.

innocent sayings by people who didn't know, who would say things like "well when you start having kids…" ouch. pain. reminders.

it's january 2012.

sometimes, i feel sad still. mostly, i have this awareness of life and fragility and control that i didn't have before. i appreciate the process of becoming a mother. my baby may have died, but i was a mother. am a mother. i am different.

the next time, i will feel immediate apprehension. i already do, and it isn't the next time yet. i'm already too scared to get excited at even the possibility again someday.

this could happen again.

maybe it won't. but it could.

but for now, i'm okay. i remember, but i look forward. i am aware, i am sensitive, i am learning.