I have been trying to write this entry for weeks now. But every time I sit down to write, something comes up. Max gets hungry or needs my attention, or something “more important” comes up. The number one thing that I have learned through all of this is that acceptance is key. “It’s OK” has been my main mantra for these last few weeks. “It’s OK that I am still in my pj’s at 1 PM”, “It’s OK to smile and then cry in the next second”, “It’s OK to have fear, to be grateful, to have hope, to be sad, to not be able to function.” IT IS OK!
So I start this entry with this: IT’s OK that the following may not use the best grammar, It’s ok that there may be misspelled words and that it may not be super polished. What is more than OK is that I get it out there, because this is healing, this is medicine for me.
Lately the waves of grief have been strong and unexpected. As soon as I feel like I am finally able to keep my head above water, I get hit hard. The waves come from somewhere deep inside me. They start at my toes and well all the way up to my eye balls until before I know it, I can no longer keep the pressure in. I spring a leak and tears that I cannot stop start spewing out of me.
The triggers are everywhere. they compartmentalize themselves into “before the birth” and “after the birth”, “when we were all together” and “when we had to say goodbye”, “before the pregnancy” and “after the pregnancy.” Skinning on the mountain, skate skiing, running the river trail, eating at certain places, walking the canal trail, coming across something that I got double of.. These places, things and random thoughts are catalyses that I have to face and breathe through every day, and I never know which one will send me in a tail spin of what if’s, guilt and grief.
And I CANNOT run from them. No matter how many times I try. It used to work just fine. In fact, that was my main tactic. When something “tragic” or uncomfortable would happen to me (like a break up), I would literally move to a different state. I have MANY drivers licenses because of this. When shit got hard, I would just pack up my little Honda civic with all of my belongings and hit the open road. Ready for the next river, the next group of friends, the next opportunity.
But this, this is something deeper. There is no running from this because I made him. I have a connection to him that is so deep that nothing can disrupt that.. not even death. I admit that for the past couple of weeks I have been trying to forget, to move on, to get past it because, it is EXHAUSTING to love someone this much. To wake up every morning and lie there – dissecting every piece of that day, to imagine what it would be like if I just got a c- section at the 38 week mark (even though they were healthy!), to take the “head down” as a sign that he wanted to come out right then and there instead of as a sign that he wanted to wait! I have tried running it out, sweating it out, screaming WHY!! and FUCK!!! at the top of my lungs, being angry, going on a road trip, and even going to a dermatologist to see if they could “remove all marks, all scars, all signs of this.” But none of it worked. In the end, all I could do was do the thing that I was most scared of doing: Sitting with the darkness, the lightness, the trauma, the beauty, the wonder… with anything that came AND being OK with what ever presents itself. And that is where I sit today.
I am still getting out and training everyday for that brings me it’s own joy and release, but I am no longer using it as a tactic to deal with my many emotions. Taking time every day to just sit and breathe through what ever comes up for me has been a life line like no other. I never believed in the power of meditating until now. After a few weeks of committing to take at least 10 minutes a day to bring in the many emotions, thoughts and feelings – and letting them corse through me has been both scary and healing at the same time. It takes all my strength to make myself go to these unknown depths, but somewhere inside of me, I know that this is the only way through.
I am aware that reading this is hard for some, especially my family. For I know that it is very painful to see your daughter, your sister, your friend, etc go through something like this, but know that I have many happy moments- that Max and Jason bring me so much joy, love and depth. But for me, writing, talking, and sharing my grief is how I am coping, how I am healing and how I am processing.
Thank you to all of you who have reached out, sent poems, sent letters, and gifts. They are beautiful and we keep ALL them.
Below is the latest poem and a link to a comment about loss and tragedy that have been helping me in the darkest of times.
By Danna Faulds
There is no controlling life.
Try corralling a lightning bolt,
containing a tornado. Dam a
stream and it will create a new
channel. Resist, and the tide
will sweep you off your feet.
Allow, and grace will carry
you to higher ground. The only
safety lies in letting it all in –
the wild and the weak; fear,
fantasies, failures and success.
When loss rips off the doors of
the heart, or sadness veils your
vision with despair, practice
becomes simply bearing the truth.
In the choice to let go of your
known way of being, the whole
world is revealed to your new eyes.