So, I have to tell you. Sometimes I walk away from writing an entry on this blog, and I second-guess myself. Should I have said that? Did I say it the right way? Will I offend someone? I do. Did I edit “it” enough? Should I have someone else look at it? My grammar, spelling. If I had enough money, I could afford an editor. But, it would not be my thoughts and feelings after a while. Not making it, in my opinion, a true blog. And then even sometimes I think, maybe I should stop this blog. I am “exposing” too much of myself. It’s liberating, but at the same time fear can arise inside of me. But, then I think, the benefits outweigh the negatives. Helping others. Something I always wanted to do in life. So, I continue on with this diary.
You may not like everything I say on here. You may. But chances are, you will disagree with something. And that is okay. Try and think of one person in your life, that you agree with everything that they say. I can’t think of one person. And that is okay. So, if you do not like everything that I say, I am okay with that. I do hope that what I say causes you to think a little more. And most importantly, not feel alone. To feel that I am an empathetic friend on some level, even if you have never really met me. Maybe you start your day out with a cup of coffee, and read one of my entries. You can feel like, “Yeah, she gets me. She understands me.” So that you do not feel alone in this.
My hope is that someday I can look at all of my entries, and watch my progression and more so, my transformation. Because I will never be the same person, that I was, before I lost Emily and Michael. Kind of like a butterfly coming out of its cocoon. I will never again be that caterpillar. I am going to develop into that soaring butterfly. There will be some rough seas ahead of me. I already have had some choppy waves to go through. But this is all a part of grieving. Sometimes when I meet with my counselor, I plop myself in the chair and say, “I am done feeling this way. I am so tired of it.” She never tells me, “Well, let’s be done with it. I am tired of hearing you anyhow. Being sad one day. Then angry the next. Just start positive thinking, and you’ll get over it.” I laugh as I type that. No, she is patient. And caring and understanding. And reminds me that “this is all a part of grieving. And you just have to go through it. You can’t go around it.”
So, I am putting it all out there. My feelings. So that days you may feel like, “Is this normal? Am I going crazy with having this thought or feeling. Again?” Remember, the grieving process is fluid. It is not a one-stop shop, onto the “next” stage. I know of many people that have lost babies. Some, many years ago. Most say, the days get more bearable. Which is reassuring. And I agree. But, the pain and love, at the same time, never truly go away. It’s crazy that both of those can coexist. I guess that is the price you pay to truly love, and lose. But I do not believe that you “lose” your baby. They are always yours. Even if you, and others, cannot see that baby.