I’ve been missing.

Mama Village has been severely neglected and I feel like I’m just coming up for air.  My ability to remember things is returning and I’ve started meal planning again.  It sounds incredibly silly but meal planning is a dashboard of well-being in my life.

The reason: Our 4th baby is a spirit baby, delivered still in December after a roller coaster diagnostic journey.

Let me just say that I REALLY don’t want to write this or publish it in a post. I’m forcing it because my gut tells me that the process will be healing.  I’ve never appreciated how many women deeply understand these agonizing, dark feelings.  Another woman’s eye contact and hug quality now reveals who has lived these feelings in their own story.  I’ve learned there is healing in connection and I want to honour our baby by helping to make someone else’s journey just a little more bearable.

While there are moments I feel I SHOULD be back to normal, I remind myself that normal does not exist.  There is no “supposed to be.” I am living what is meant for me and my choice is to adapt or be paralyzed.  I may falter but I won’t sink, I choose swim.   Swim hard.  Our baby may not be in our arms, but he is in our hearts as we slowly navigate a new normal.   I’d even venture to say he’s encouraged us to be better humans, kinder and more grateful humans.

I’m learning how to feel when someone asks me if we are going to try for a 4th, or when they say we have too many girls and should try for a boy.  I’m learning how to keep it together when my girls whisper that they need me in private because they miss the new baby, or when they have nightmares about not being able to save him.  I’m learning that “grief attacks” are part of healing and they might knock me down but they also help me become strong enough to carry this pain.  I’m so grateful to have people who don’t believe me when I say “I’m okay”.  They hug me tight and whisper “I know you’re not and that’s okay.”

This is a long-winded way to say that I’m present again.  We have been supported and hugged so very tight as we adapt.  Whole heartedly, thank you.


One thought on “Hiatus

  1. Amy says:

    You have an amazing way with words, your loss is profound but your strength is greater. Love to you all.

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