Photo by Sebastian Unrau on Unsplash
I am counting the days, one by one, until September 4th. Nelle’s birthday. It will have been four years since she was stillborn.
That year, it was Labor Day weekend. So not only do I have the actual day, but everything surrounding Labor Day reminds me of that weekend. Continue reading
Some things in life cannot be fixed. They can only be carried. -Megan Devine
I spent nearly two years with my first therapist learning how to carry my grief. She let me talk about how I felt and gently probed deeper. She wanted me to identify, label, and learn to be comfortable with my feelings – even if my feelings hurt. We talked through upcoming situations so that I could learn to manage my response. When I lost Iris, she hugged me tightly and said “I’m so sorry, hun. This isn’t what I wanted for you.” Continue reading
I began seeing a therapist, Alexia, five days after Nelle was stillborn. I remember making the phone call to a counseling services group that had been recommended to me and when asked for the reason for wanting the appointment I had to say the words out loud “Because… because my baby died.” The person on the other end of the phone gave the immediate, automatic “Oh, I’m so sorry….” Ger and I went to the first appointment together but then I began to see Alexia alone. Continue reading
Last week, I attended a Share meeting. I found myself the “furthest out” in the room: the most time had passed since my loss. Now heading toward three years ago this September since Nelle was born. I was that voice from the “other side”: somehow survived. The days are not awful. The moments come and go, but are not constant. Continue reading
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.