This week has been absolutely nutty. Make that last week and this week — or perhaps every day since Friday the 13th when it was also an impending full moon. That’s it. Work has been a combination of Friday the 13th, the Full Moon, and toss in Groundhog Day, for nearly two weeks now. Everyone has lost their minds and is howling. Continue reading
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