I read a beautiful aricle in the new Oprah. It was a story about miscarriage and infertility written by the husband. I read it while I was having my coffee this morning and bawled my eyes out. I searched for it online but can't find it.
It was unexpected to find a story like that in a magazine, it's not often we get to see this journey portrayed in such a public way.
I'm (still) astonished to find that I am not alone, that these sorrows are real and should be acknowledged.
The article was talking about after a miscarriage how everything is harder, and you are tired and disoriented and depressed and anxious and sad.
I felt all of these things but still went to work and tried to keep up the rest of my life, my husband and I didn't talk about it. My friends didn't really want to talk about it. Family didn't acknowledge it. People wanted to tell me it was for the best, it wasn't really a baby, I could try again.
These were major events and sorrows in my life and I am finally feeling as if I can acknowledge and accept the turmoil and pain that ensued. The sorrow I still feel. Finally able to put words around it.
It was a tragedy that I lost my three babies. No matter how early it happened. It was a tragedy and it made me sad. It hurt my heart. I will be ok. I will go on with my life but it did happen.
Sometimes I am surprised that I am healing and there's a tense spot that pops up as I begin the journey again. Waiting for and expecting the worst. I'll just keep redirecting that energy as much as I can to what I hope to have happen because ultimately I don't have control over the outcome but at least I can try to help myself control the panic.