A constant state of emptiness surrounds me. A hole, now larger than the size of Sam ripped open to make room for Lion, exists within me.
Before we were discharged from the ER, three different nurses on three different occasions had the lack of bedside manner to wish me a “Happy Early Birthday”. They were sending me home to naturally miscarry my child with well wishes for tomorrow.
Awhile ago I shared how faintly written on the outskirts of my response when asked about my well being was brOKen. It’s not faint anymore. I am broken.
The adrenaline that’s carried me over the last few days is rolling out like fog to reveal a deep sadness I have worked so hard to constructively live around; grief. Our grief counselor advised us about our Sam shaped hole. He had said that as time passed, we would learn to walk around it yet always be aware of its presence. I feel as though a week ago my feet were out and I was able to not just walk, but dance safely around the emptiness. Now, it feels as though I’ve fallen back in.
How do you celebrate while grieving?
Feeling at a loss for an answer, I googled it.
My wound, my Sam shaped hole magnified by the loss of a heart flicker we only saw one time, is the same place where healing begins. I know I’m not alone. We all suffer something.
Tomorrow might not feel happy; it might be hard to celebrate but floating around our loss community I’ve seen the cite, “Where there is deep grief, there is great love.”
My emptiness, although stemmed from loss, is a product of love only parents know, and that is worth celebrating.
Thinking of Sam 