One Year

When will the pain go away? How long will I feel like this? Does it ever get better?

After sharing my story of miscarriage, a ton of readers have come to me. I have become a person that people feel they can talk to. I love that about our community. Opening up about our pain and struggles allow others to have a comfort in approaching someone.

What I have told those readers, the women who come to me in the midst of loss, is that eventually, you will feel like you can breathe again. Like the world that has just collapsed on top of you will slowly lift itself up. You will never be the same. You will always have a hurt in your heart but things will return to a new kind of normal. One that isn't quite the same but you will be okay. The hurt will ease up a bit.

And then there will be days like today. The anniversary of a loss. The due date you were given. The day you remember sharing the big news of new life. Days that bring you right back to where you were. Right back to feeling like the world is ending. Like you can't catch your breath no matter how hard you try.

As I am sitting here, a year after our second miscarriage, I am trying to think of what I would tell one of you. What I have probably said to many of you in this exact place. And I am at a loss. Healing a hurt of never getting to hold your baby, of never seeing their face or hearing them say mommy. Making that pain go away seems impossible.

I know that relief will come. I have seen how God has used my loss. How God has used their short lives. I know that God has me in His hands and will pull me through. But the pain, the pain doesn't go away.

I want to distract myself. To put myself somewhere where I can't think about this anymore. But then I feel an overwhelming guilt, trying to distract myself from the death of a child. My child.

What would I tell one of you?

I'm guessing that I would tell you that the hurt and pain is real and powerful and will consume you. I would tell you that just as God pulled you out in the beginning that He will pull you out again. That in this moment when it feels like the world is crashing and you can't control it, it is okay to cry and scream and be hurt. It is okay.

But we have to pull ourselves out of it. Not right now, not even tomorrow. But we have to move forward. Still loving, still remembering but moving forward. Reminding ourselves that we will see our babies. We will hold them. And they are in the best of hands right now.

I would tell you that it would get better. That it will never be okay but it will be better. Until next year and then it's going to hurt all over again. But that there will be all of us. All of us who have been there. We will be there to cry to. To cry with. We will be there to eat icecream at 8am with you. To just listen. I would tell you that it's going to hurt for now. It's going to hurt a lot and that it is okay to feel this way.

If any of you ever need someone to talk to, please email me. vesselhandmade@gmail.com There is nothing like knowing there is someone there to listen. Please do not try to do it all alone.