As I reflect on capturing my grief this month…it feels good to put some feelings into words, but there are so many feelings that I just cannot express in words. I don’t know how to express them at all. I feel stuck in a kind of hell.
I was just discussing with my therapist that I am stuck on the "why", and so this topic is perfect. I feel that even if there was an answer, none would be good enough to justify my losses.
And so my What Heals You….that is tough, because nothing feels healing. I have moments of joy, with my nieces, watching my cats play, getting lost in crappy television. Small moments where my heart is a bit lighter.
I try to practice random acts of kindness on a daily basis. Even something as simple as letting a car in when there is heavy traffic could make a difference in that person’s day.
I hadn’t looked this far ahead and I know I posted about gratitude on an earlier day.
But for today:
I am grateful the weather is cooling down
I am grateful to have seen my nieces this past weekend
As painful as it was, I am even grateful for all 3 of my pregnancies. If given the choice to have missed the pain, but never been pregnant….I am too grateful for the time I had with them to ever take it back
I do not have a green thumb…I have tried, in the past, to plant things and they never last. I am scared to try again….I am scared of not even being able to keep a plant alive to honor my children. Instead, I have this blog. I honor them through these words, through sharing my journey with others.
I feel completely stuck in the depths of the hell that is grief. I don’t know how healing from this kind of pain is even possible. I feel like I am going through the motions of life, but not actually living it. I get out of bed, I go to work, I run errands…I do what is expected of me, when I really want to do is stay curled up in bed.
At what point does this get better? How does "better" even look?
I dream about my children all the time…unfortunately, they are not usually peaceful or comforting dreams.
After my first miscarriage, I had a dream that my son was born and I was at my Grandma’s house showing him off to my whole family. At some point, my late Grandpa came into the room and was holding my son. He slowly walked out of the house with him. This was somewhat comforting, as I felt I was being shown that my son was safe with his great grandpa.
Although I don’t recall the dream in much detail, I do know I had a dream after my second loss…and that she was a girl named Bella. That is not a name that was ever on my list, but that is what I call her now.
I don’t necessarily have a space that I connect with my angels. I have Lucy’s ashes and Jack’s bear together on a bookshelf in my room, with candles (Lucy’s bear is in production).
After my second miscarriage, I created what I call my "backyard sanctuary"…a couple of rocking chairs, a fire pit, some flower pots (which are suffering from my lack of green thumb). But I have yet to find a place where I can feel peaceful in both mind and body.