It takes immense courage to be sad
Where does one go once they’ve experienced a loss that they’re unfamiliar with?
Who does one turn to?
Is this feeling of immense loneliness normal?
Is it common to ignore the support group for everyday life because they just don’t understand your new struggle?
These questions flooded my head once I learned that my baby was lifeless within me. I had the support of my partner, who was also deeply saddened and lost, but the loneliness was astounding.
The next day I had my D&C, it felt like a blur. I was moving through my life for several weeks as if I was living outside of my body watching it all happen. I couldn’t understand my grief, therefore I couldn’t explain it to anyone – the isolation was terrifying.
It took weeks for me to feel courageous enough to share my story and find my way into a community I didn’t know existed. Miscarriage was a foreign term to me, I knew nothing about it. I just started mastering the concept of pregnancy, and then it was suddenly ripped from under me with no warning.
Now, more than four years and two angel babies later, I have found my strength and know my grief. I live within my grief and recognize its ongoing presence in my life. I do not deny that I still grieve to this very day.
I still find myself waking up exhausted emotionally, for no other reason than I am still sad. It would be a lie to say that I am okay and I have healed well. I still feel wrecked by my guilt and my grief.
A mother’s love is undeniable, but a mother’s grief is unimaginable. It takes immense courage to be sad, and this is something I still have to tell myself.