The experience of losing a baby at 22 weeks pregnant has changed my heart and is the main reason I have felt the urge to write. Going through that was the most difficult and rewarding thing (odd to actually add that “rewarding” part) I remember when I was in this dark time I was desperate to find anyone that has gone through EXACTLY what I had so I could somehow relate. I craved guidance, advice, and comfort. Sometimes it was difficult to ask for help with people I knew, or I couldn’t find anyone who had gone through exactly what I had experienced. It seemed easier for me to look up blogs, go to a Baby Center board, websites, anywhere to just have someone to relate to my particular situation. I observed how they handled it. I didn’t know how to handle my issues “normally” so I wanted to mimic what others would do and say is normal so I could justify my actions. I felt alone. Finding blogs, websites, and people who were willing to share their experiences were my saving grace. I spent countless hours on a baby group dedicated to mothers who lost their babies in the second or third trimesters. I would read post after post in the middle of the night just wanting someone to mourn WITH me. I wanted to cry WITH them. I wanted to be around women who felt the same way I did. I RARELY would post or comment on these boards. I was a silent bystander that soaked in every word from these women who bravely shared their intimate details about their loss. I found that most of these women were feeling exactly how I did. They put to words beautifully what I couldn’t muster without having an anxiety attack. I felt paralyzed in sharing my feelings. The women wrote what I wanted to say, but couldn’t get the strength to. I found blogs about women who had full-term losses and cried as I read their beautiful words of their feelings, feelings that I could relate to so much. They strengthened me. These women helped me tread through my grief. I never wanted to speak about my experience. It was like a horrible crime that hit me to my most delicate nerve. Why would anyone ever want to relive a horror story? I had just gotten out of it, why would I want to go back into my deepest darkest hell and share with people what I didn’t want to remember for myself? It isn’t until now that I have decided to share my story along with other feelings, thoughts, and experiences in hope that whoever stumbles across this can relate, can cry with me, and nod along as they read my thoughts and feelings. I pray it can be of help and comfort to someone else looking for it. There is little anyone can say or do when someone loses a special person in their life, if sharing my story helps one person it is worth it to me to be open and honest about my perspective.
I have been feeling the urge (like for the past year!) to write down my story, feelings, and thoughts. How to go about it, I did not know, I didn’t want a depressing blog that just focused on grieving and death, but I did want to be open, and honest about life experiences and not try to sugar coat my process of healing and learning. After months of pondering, praying, and discussing with my husband, this is what I have put together. Sharing my story is continued therapy for me.
