Feb 18, 2020
Last June at 13 weeks pregnant, I experienced a miscarriage. The physical, mental, and emotional toll the experience took on my husband and myself was heavy.
I knew shortly after this was a story I wanted to share and needed to tell, in part for my own healing (I'm an external processor). I also felt this was my way to honor the grace that had been given to me.
I now recognize that - in the early stages of healing - part of my recovery was credited to a group of nurses who came into my hospital room, took my hand, looked me in the eye and shared their story. Their generosity was like a salve to my heart, and likely the only thing I could've handled hearing.
Not - "It'll be okay."
But rather - "You're not alone."
If this is a message you need to hear please know -
It was also equally as important for me to share all of the confusing shades and colors that came out of this experience. Not just the obvious grief, but the way it brought my husband and I closer together. The way we used inappropriate humor to laugh through our tears, and how it informed the choices we made moving forward.
Thank you for being on this journey with me. We're in this together.