Where there is desire, there is gonna be a flame Where there is a flame, someone’s bound to get burned But just because it burns, doesn’t mean you’re gonna die You gotta get up and try, and try, and try Gotta get up and try, and try, and try You gotta get up and try, and try, and try
– Pink, Try –
Stillbirth isn’t only an emotional and spiritual experience, it is also physical.
I’ve never been a huge fan of my body. I mean, I know I’m physically strong. I run, a lot… many half marathons, even a full marathon in 2014. I lift weights and can move furniture on my own. I’m strong. But, I often wish to be less strong in order to be more skinny. Getting pregnant meant it was one of the first times in my life I was not actively trying to lose weight. Freedom!
Pregnancy is marked in weeks. Bump pics are taken weekly. Pregnancy websites send weekly updates about what your baby is up to in the womb. Milestones of fetal development are marked in weeks. It seems like life with a new baby is also marked in weeks. First week at home. First four weeks. The precious 12 (or so) weeks a mom is home with the baby. I’ve found time after loss to be measured in weeks, too.
In the Grief Writing Class I took last fall, the instructors encouraged us to come up with creative alternatives to share about our losses. I acknowledge the cheesy-ness of this, but if you click the little link below you’ll see the Resume of a Bereaved Mother I started last fall and added to this winter:
In my last two posts I wrote about how at times the past six months I have felt helpless. The first post was about feeling helpless because there are so many factors out of our control in a pregnancy. The second post was about feeling helpless while trying to provide comfort to Sarah. In each of these post I wrote about the importance of becoming comfortable with feeling helpless. I am still figuring out how I can become comfortable with those helpless feelings, but wanted to share what I’ve found so far.