My Path

Yesterday I woke to the sun screaming......GET OUT OF BED LAZY HEAD! I answered ever so politely and gestured my way to the sink for a glass of water and my normal morning breakfast of medications to jump start my day. It was going to be a busy day. A day that would hopefully fill my mind in ways that would not allow my heart to take over. I need today. I needed today to give me a respite from the unpredictable waves of grief. My shore could not take anymore abuse and a calm was needed for my heart and soul to catch its breath once more.

I bustled through the morning preparing a grant application. Doctors were called and the voices that echoed my life altering news mere days before were sweet with words and it sickened my soul. For a moment I found myself angry. How could their days, their nights, their lives move on so quickly when the loss I am feeling is still so unbearable? I reminded myself of the love I knew they felt for me and the minutes spent on holidays talking to me and answering my questions. Their voices were not sickening sweet but voices filled with hope. Hope for myself and hope for all of the others wanting to become mamas that they would meet throughout their day.They were not allowed moments of grief for others. They had to rebound faster than anyone else in order to comfort the next reassuring them that their story may turn out different.

After my calls I found myself out in the middle of the day. A time I had sheltered myself from as much as possible over the last week. I stood in line at the post office. I watched men with boxes. I watched women rushing through their lunch hour just to make sure that their bosses knew the much anticipated letter was mailed. My eyes fixated on one women ahead of me in line. She was someone close to my age. Her face full of frustration and worry that could be traced to everything else on her to do list that was put off by this one moment of wait. On one hip her bag rested and on the other her toddler. I found myself once more bubbling with anger. How could she be frustrated when she had the world at her hands......the world resting on her hip? How I longed to be her this time next year. How I longed to be mailing out baby announcements in this moment and not a silly grant application. I studied her for the duration of my wait. Reality sunk in once more and I realized she is but a mother with a list of things to do and all of them rested on her little toddlers cooperation. She was just one  more person in this world with a life that must carry on.

Fate has a way of reminding us exactly where we are. It is not always kind but always truthful. I parked next to the expectant mother parking spot at the store. It was the spot Greg and I had joked about being ours in the months to come. I even thought of taking my picture next to it and that being our silly way of announcing to the world our miracle was on its way. I tucked my head down and carried on. I passed the foods that I had started to crave. I went down the isles that only a week ago I could not stand the smell. I saw the girl behind the bakery counter, the one who wrote on a small cake that we were expecting for me to share with my husband. I was in a minefield. I could not take one single step without something in my heart exploding. The list was shortened and I checked myself out. No eye contact was the best contact. 

In the safety of the four doors of my car I fell apart before I even started the car. I did not care who saw me. I did not care if people walking by heard the wails I let go. A cry of a woman who lost her little blueberry. I continued to cry on my short drive home and the sadness followed me through the rest of the day and into the night. A sadness that still lingers today but exhaustion keeps at bay. 

Infertility is something we are made to feel ashamed of. Miscarriage is something hushed and swept under the family carpet. There are books galore to tell you what to expect when you are expecting but less to guide you through the moments when what you were expecting is lost. It is a maze that at times seems like you can conquer only to wake up in the fetal position knowing today you will not get out of bed. No one tells you about the physical pain of losing your baby but even worse no one can prepare for the emotional pain that continues to last. One day at a time everyone tells me but do they know that some days are ok when others are crippling? When will the days pass of longing and  the tears stop flowing? How much time does it take to truly mend a broken heart?

There is not a book to navigate you through your personal struggle through grief and one's path through grief is not the same as your own. It can not be rushed or measured in hours or days. It is a journey only you yourself can embark on. As with all journeys there will be times of complete despair and one day you will encounter moments that will make the pain seem smaller. I wait for those moments. The moments that make me want to get out of bed and not force me out. I long for laughter and joy and to bask in the hope of tomorrow. I know all of this is yet to come but I must bravely go through what today has in store. It will be hard. It will be sad but it will be mine. It is my path through my loss that will be but one more trail that you will find on the map of my life.