I have a confession. It’s been almost a whole week since I last cried. I’m not saying that I’m, you know, back to normal and bam! that’s grief over and done with, but I feel like this is a major step towards healing my broken heart.
If I’m being completely honest (and, let’s face it, why wouldn’t I be?) there is a tiny part of me that feels guilty for feeling better. Like I should still be mourning the tiny life I once carried. I remind myself of what I learned at the Empty Cradle meeting I attended last month: one of the counsellors — a woman who lost twin boys — said “Don’t feel bad about having good days, or even good moments. Grief ebbs and flows, you have to hold on tight the the good days and moments, and enjoy them while you can.”
I suppose it’s helped that I haven’t had any major triggers (pregnancy announcements, bellies, &c.) make a sudden and screeching appearance. This has helped tremendously. More triggers will present themselves in time, I know, so I’m just enjoying feeling more like myself again. Well, I’m not the person I used to be, because miscarriage changes that… but I am a new and improved version. A woman who has glimpsed her future self and sees that she can overcome the dark days that will present themselves. A woman who feels older, wiser, peaceful, and more alive than she did before.
Other things that have helped this past week:
I received a lovely card in the mail from a friend of mine. She wrote a beautiful card each for DH and me — mine held a sliver of a colourful mandala she’d made — and enclosed a tiny book called Grief… reminders for healing. Perhaps my favourite line is “Denying sadness denies healing. By letting your heart break you let your heart heal.” It felt good to know that a friend took the time to mail me such a meaningful gift.
My dear friend Evelyn who writes the sassy mama blog, Momsicle | something to suck on, gave OFT a shout out. Evelyn has two gorgeous little boys whom I love, but she has not had a miscarriage: it means so much that she would add her voice to the miscarriage support community. Like straight allies advocating for equal marriage rights, I think it is important to also have “unbiased” miscarriage support from people who say I don’t know exactly what it’s like, and nor do I pretend to, but I’m here supporting you and bringing awareness to the cause. (I love you, Ev!)
My mother-in-law. I have to say, I have shared some pretty tough things with my MIL — like being open and honest about how I feel about my SIL — and not only has she taken it in her stride but she actually understands why I would feel all mixed up inside. Plus, she gives pretty solid advice too. I look at my MIL and count my blessings that I have such an understanding, open-minded, and non-judgmental woman in my life.
Sitting Jizo Pendant, Blessed and Worn © 2013 JizoandChibi.com
I won this sitting Jizo pendant in Jizo and Chibi‘s Facebook giveaway! Valerie, the person behind Jizo and Chibi, is also a mindfulness-based psychotherapist in Los Angeles. Thanks to her, I discovered Jizo: in a society that doesn’t seem to acknowledge the pain of miscarriage, I was so grateful to discover that the Japanese have a “patron saint” of dead unborn children — what is known as mizuko or ‘water child’. I might be over-thinking and/or over-hoping this a bit, but symbolically, I take this as a sign that I’m on the right path. That things are going to be okay.
And, finally, we got a new car! We’ve been needing a new car for a while and settled on one we could grow into — that is, a car that will accommodate my 6’0″ frame, a giant dog, and hopefully one day… sigh… a baby seat…. All the research that goes into a large purchase has been a welcome distraction (although it hasn’t helped my homework time…). We chose a crossover (a little SUV) that is fuel efficient, reliable, scores top marks in safety ratings, and has a LATCH childseat safety system. It seems truly bizarre to have to take the needs of a not-yet-conceived baby into consideration, but it’s the smart thing to do. And, without wanting to jinx anything, it’s made me happy to dare hope that this car will be the car that will drive our little baby home one day.
PS. blasted dictation software, I meant in the last line: “maybe even you’ll find yourself starting to hum a little, a lilt in your step, with maybe the shadow of a smile on your mouth.”
so happy to read that life is returning to a semblance of normality, and that you have moments of calm that are not dominated by grief. Add me to the list of allies who have never had a miscarriage. Thanks to reading your blog, Lauren, I’ve started to acknowledge a different kind of grief. Due to many circumstances beyond my control, I am 42 years old, married to a lovely man who does not want children. When I met him 8 years ago, I didn’t think I would ever want children. But a few years ago that started to change as I met the wonderful new personalities brought into the world by my best friends. Now I feel that it’s too bad that I never had the chance to even attempt to conceive. I’m trying to resign myself to a life without children of my own.
Everyone says, “there are other ways of having children in your life”. I nod my head silently and look forward to my next weekend play date with the 3-year-old and 2-year-old loves of my life. I know that it would be the biggest challenge ever for a sometimes-suicidal, severely depressed woman to start a family, and logic tells me that it would be a total nightmare to protect my children from their maternal grandmother, who is (in my opinion, although I’m not a psychiatrist) severely mentally ill but has been undiagnosed and untreated for decades.
I guess I’ve begun a blog post of my own. I’ll stop here and get back to wishing you more quasi-normal moments, more windows of time when the grief doesn’t pierce you straight through, and maybe even you’ll find yourself starting to come a little, a little in your step, with maybe the shadow of a smile in your mouth.
It was so good to see you this week. I feel lik I’ve been spinning in a frenzy being so busy lately, and I showed up at your place in that frame of mind, but you were so centered. Considering recent circumstances, I hadn’t expected that. You are so, so strong. Even when you feel weak, you are so strong.
I’m so happy you got the car. Newness is such a good thing and well-deserved. Even in car format, it brings freshness to your life, and literally, so much more mobility!
Fabulous to see you too! Really, you thought I was centered? That gives me untold hope.
Look forward to taking you for a spin upon your return xo
Hurrah, hurrah! You are so right to know that grief doesn’t just disappear, it comes in waves; and to cherish the moments of happiness and “normalcy.” Congrats on this sunny (mentally and weather-wise, I imagine) week. I love thinking of myself as a straight ally for gay marriage in the miscarriage community! I’ve been having an overwhelming day over here, so your kind words are real and true light. Love you, too!
<3