these words speak volumes tonight. i was asked by a good friend today if i was “okay.” :::takes deep breath:::
i know we’ve only just met. so forgive me for starting out uncomfortably deep. but it’s true: i’m NOT okay. not even close. sure, i’m here: in the present. i’m surviving. i wake up. shower. eat. feed the dog. attempt to be present for my child. make sure said child stays fed, dry, and out of the electric outlets. work. school. bills. attempt to be present for amazing husband. clean. more work. rinse and repeat. i’m treading water, miraculously. but is struggling to swim “okay”? is “surviving” a way to live? how does one stay afloat in the tidal wave of grief?
i am reeling from just losing my fourth baby. i’m NOT okay. i was so very blessed with what appears to now be a miracle child, my son, back in 2012. don’t get me wrong, i thank god each and every day for allowing me to be his sweetie mama. he is the light of my life. but as time ticks on, the dream for our family-yet-to-be-realized burns a deeper hole in my heart with each subsequent loss. and with each loss the highs are higher and the lows cut deeper than ever before. i am reeling. spinning like a top without a clear purpose or direction. and i’m NOT okay.
i will go into my dark rabbit hole of infertility and pregnancy loss later, as no one wants to start off with the raw, jagged edges of repeated soul-stabbing loss. i don’t want to lose all 4 of my followers with the first post. but on the same hand i am WHO i am because of that struggle, and truly, the entire reason i am compelled to blog stems from that broken part of my soul. ugh. i really hate that term “blog.” it sounds so stagnant and greasy. in all honesty, it is important to me to share with you my story. the story of my children. because they were alive. and they still live within my heart. and though not of this earth today, i honor them by sharing with others the imprint they left on my life. but more importantly, i honor them by building a community around me where the stigma of infant and pregnancy loss is eradicated. because we all know “it” happens. if you are like me, a woman in her 30’s, you’d be hard-pressed to not know someone who has suffered a loss. but it is often and quickly swept under the rug. it’s uncomfortable.
i want to break the silence. it’s NOT okay. it helps no one.
so here i am, at 12:30AM replaying this song “who you are” by jessie j (no judging) 19238263 times, which probably was written about self-image and loving yourself no matter what society says and here i find it completely applicable to the grieving mother instead of the pimple faced teenager struggling to fit in.
“seeing is deceiving, dreaming is believing, it’s okay not to be okay.”