Researcher Brené Brown posted on her social media recently: “Hit me with some situations that left you feeling bittersweet.”
The days leading up to Autumn’s birthday are always bittersweet for me.
Continue readingBittersweet Moments
pregnancy loss
Acceptance of the New Normal
Photo by Matt Sclarandis on Unsplash
Day 32 of our confinement to our home. The days have now turned into a predictable rhythm of remote learning assignments from the elementary school, juggling work and a toddler, endless dishes and laundry, and time in our backyard if the weather cooperates. We do telehealth appointments with doctors when needed, FaceTime with family, and Zoom meetings for church. I text constantly to stay connected, but it isn’t the same. I miss playdates, going to the museum or zoo, Starbucks, and dinners with my friends. Continue reading
Out With One Month, In With Another
September always seems to be a hard month. It starts out brutal on the 3rd, the day that we found out that Nelle’s heart had stopped beating. Her birthday on the fourth. Replaying those early days over and over, each year passing and remembering those early days of grief. Then reaching Theo’s birthday and feeling the contradiction of celebrating another year of his life, while missing hers. Continue reading
A New Permanence
I got my first tattoo five months after losing Iris. Eight days before her due date. I wanted to carry an acknowledgment of all of my children. After perusing photos online of various tributes from parents, I found one and it was perfect: birth dates, done in a square formation and typewriter font, in the upper part of my back. It was simple and I could show or hide it as I pleased. I used a tattoo artist that a friend recommended, at a little hole-in-the-wall shop several suburbs away. Continue reading
For Better or Worse
Before I was discharged from the hospital after delivering Iris, I asked the doctor to write me a prescription for an anti-depressant. I knew that losing two babies inside of six months could send me into a dark place. When placed on a six-month holding pattern before trying for a baby again, I became rigorous in my self-care. The medication, weekly therapy, yoga multiple times per week, baths, and natural beauty products became a ritual to stay afloat. I hear the words loud and clear from the grief community: take care of yourself, take care of yourself.
