That though the radiance which was once so bright be now forever taken from my sight. Though nothing can bring back the hour of splendor in the grass, glory in the flower. We will grieve not, rather find strength in what remains behind.
This week is over, and I am relieved. April has been a month of excitement, anticipation, and bitter disappointment. But I am still standing. Barely. Our new place is wonderful. We have so much space, nearby trails to go walking, a beautiful kitchen to cook in, and three bathrooms! Everyday I grow to love it more. I've spent a lot of time here in the last two weeks, recovering from yet another pregnancy loss. We were eight weeks in, and Michael and I both thought this was the one. My mother in law could feel it in her bones, and truth be told, so did I. But, the universe decided that it wasn't to be, again. It's been a crazy roller coaster, because for one whole week, we thought there might be a possibility that it was just a threatened miscarriage. At an emergency ultrasound we saw a heartbeat, but it was very slow. We so wanted to believe it would work out. Our hearts were open, ready for a little miracle. Sadly, I miscarried a couple of days later. Part of me wants to scream, part of me wants to run away, and the rest of me wants to start trying again tomorrow. I've gone through the whole gamete of emotions this week, from completely giving up, to hating the universe again, to complete acceptance, and then back to giving up. And as I write this, I'm not sure where I stand. What I do know, is that I need to move on. Move forward. Start running the trails. Spend time in the sun. Go for walks in the spring rain. Open my window and listen to the birds in the morning. Have friends over for dinners. Go hiking. Spend time with my loving husband. Create a meditation room. Watch a ton of MadMen and Modern Family. Laugh with my students at school. Start a theatre company. Meet new people. Spend time with close friends. Cuddle with our kitty Willow. I could go on and on. There's still so much to live for. Am I disappointed? Yes. Am I angry? Yes. But, I have come to the conclusion that this is my journey. Before I lost Luka, my life was pretty simple and easy. I worked hard in school, but it wasn't hard to find a job. I never struggled to find love, in fact, I found it early. I've never wanted something so much, and not been able to have it. And to accept the possibility of it not happening, ever, is very challenging. My friend Amber once told me, when she was going through a rough patch in her life, that sometimes giving up is easier than letting go. At the time, we laughed it off. This week, it makes sense. On the phone this week my midwife told me I was strong. I thanked her, and when I got off the phone, I began to think about strength. I certainly don't feel strong. Stubborn, maybe. Scared, mostly. I've been through a lot in the past two years, and I realize it's the people around me who have made me stronger. Family and friends who have stuck by me, who have listened, made me laugh, helped me see the joy of life, and given me hope. I find strength in others who have also gone through tragedy and come through smiling, wiser and loving life even more. As I crawl into bed tonight, my oh so comfortable bed, and listen to the rain fall, I know that this too shall pass, and my heart will mend. And, just maybe in a few weeks, or a few months, I'll forget about giving up, and want to try again.
The best way out is always through. – Robert Frost