Hey hey...bye bye bye ANXIETY!

Just a little over 5 months ago, I was in the darkest place I have ever been.  On March 25, 2022, Jesse and I were told our sweet baby would never make it earthside.  They developed without a skull, and even if carried to term, they wouldn't survive more than a few hours.  My whole world turned upsidedown.  The visions I had of my planned homebirth in our new home were shattered; of my kids becoming big siblings and doting on our new baby...destroyed.  My dreams of having our family feel complete were washed away with the abundant tears that would not stop pouring out of my eyes.  I could not stop crying, screaming, crying some more and then crying myself into a restless sleep.

On March 26, I woke up, stuck being pregnant 6 more days until the hospital could get me in for a D&E.  I have a vague memory of thinking "I must plan something big for the future, otherwise I will not ever leave this bed or this darkness."  So I signed up for a triathlon.  I figured, I did it once, I can do it again...and nothing will ever be as hard as going through the loss I was experiencing at that moment.  Two dear friends signed up with me in support/solidarity and we stayed in touch regularly along the way.  One of my best friends sent me a 12-week training program that started mid-June to prepare me for the race.  

I genuinely do not have much memory of March-May.  I just know that I somehow managed to wake up, get up, and go through the motions required of me each day.  I felt like garbage, carrying the weight of the world, as well as a lot of extra weight on my body.  I wasn't sleeping much or very well and I knew I needed help.  However, due to the fact that insurance didn't cover the cost of my D&E, funds were low for me to go find the help I needed.  Through some friends recommendations and a few conversations, I realized I needed to see someone like a naturopath to get to the bottom of my issues.  I assumed my hormones were completely out of whack due to back to back losses.

Miraculously, I FOUND ONE WHO TAKES INSURANCE!  I started working with her June 21...the summer solstice...and 12 weeks away from my race.  After 15+ viles of blood work returned, we went over my results and found the root cause of SO MANY of my issues: candida.  Essentially I have a yeast infection in my gut.  I will spare you the details of all the other things this was causing, but she wanted to treat the candida first to see if that will clear up the rest of the issues.

Since August 9, I have stopped eating sugar, increased my red meat intake (for iron purposes since my iron stores were basically zero), essentially cut out most dairy (I still have some), and added many supplements to my day to support healing of my gut.  Guess what?  I HAVE NOT FELT THIS GOOD IN OVER A DECADE.  I had a raging case of eczema on my skin for 10 months (since the first lost pregnancy).  It's GONE.  I have lost 15+ pounds since working with her and changing my diet.  I sleep 7-8 hours of restful sleep a night.   The best part? My anxiety is COMPLETELY under control!  I find myself feeling so much mental clarity and feeling so grounded, it's like I am waiting to feel anxious, and the anxiety just doesn't come!  It's AMAZING.

On Sept 10, I showed up to my triathlon with my 12-week mantra in mind: keep moving forward, no matter the pace.  And that's what I did.  I smiled the entire way through every moment of the 2 hours it took me.  I felt deep appreciation to be alive and I felt the spirits and love from everyone around me, with me here on earth as well as those that have passed onto whatever is next.  For the first time in my life, I didn't feel competitive with anyone, including myself.  I showed up and for once, that was enough for me.  Finishing the race? That's what I set out to do, and I did it, but it didn't even matter because showing up finally just felt like enough.

I am writing all of this down because I want to remember my thoughts, my process, and how far I have come in a relatively short amount of time.  I want to use this as a deep learning experience to remember what I need to move forward, head towards the twinkles of light if my world ever feels so dark again.  Perspective is something I always got most from traveling to another part of the world because it forces you to adapt to ways you're not used to.  This whole experience has given me the perspective of a pretty epic trip...much of which I haven't enjoyed, but all of which I have stayed here for to move through.

If I can do this...you can too.  Thank you for reading if you've made it to this part of my share.  Thank you for being in my life and seeing me.  I love you.  I am you.  You are me.  I hope that I can repay all the support and love, in due time to people who need it, the way I have needed it so desparately over this last year.  I hope you are able to find the freedom to be who you are, authentically, the way I have been able to find my way back to myself this year.

In the deepest gratitude,
Sarah

Moving Forward

 In 5 days, I will participate in the triathlon I signed up for when I was in the darkest place I have ever been in my life.  That was 5 months ago.  In my darkest moment, I knew if I didn't plan SOMETHING in the future, even if it wasn't guarenteed, I needed to have something to motivate me to not get stuck in the darkness for way too long.

To look back on where I was just 5 months ago, to where I am now is incredibly humbling and inspiring and I feel deep pride, hope and strength from deep within myself.  I still have a long way to go, but don't we all?  I don't think healing ever really ends.  Since we lost our baby, I cry more easily (and those of you who know me, know that I already cried pretty easily), have more anxiety, feel more deeply, and have many "off" moments.  But it's in the "off" moments that I can notice my grief, which is my love for what I have lost, and also my love for what is in front of me.

I spent SO much time outside this summer, and enjoyed my children's joy at the outside adventures, water, warm weather, ice cream, friends etc.  This was the fastest summer of my life.  I spent a lot of it training for this triathlon that has kept me moving my body.  The walks, runs, swims and bikes havent been fast...but they have me moving forward.  My mantra for the last 5 months has been "move forward, no matter the pace."  

I have no intention of racing this triathlon.  I just want to finish it, no matter how long it takes.  And the power of this mantra has absolutely taken root, because for the first time in my life I actually genuinely do not care how I perform on Saturday, as long as I am listening to my body, having fun, and find a way to finish this race.  I am confident I can do it and am feeling excited for the accomplishment.

I hope I don't experience such darkness again in my lifetime.  There is a chance I will.  There is a chance you will.  I write this blog as a reminder to myself, and hopefully a reminder to you, that no matter how dark it gets, you are not alone.  Someone else is struggling with you, and if we can open our hearts to the darkness, thats how some of the light starts to come in.  Here is a little poem that came out of me today.

Darkness consumed me 
like no other darkness before.
Nothing was visible; everything
was suffocating and squeezing my heart 
too hard.

In the pause between
my heartbeats, the darkness
tried to consume me...
...but what is that?

A hug, a meal, a touch
a long drive, grace, empathy
understanding and love
love and more love.

A Twinkle of Light.

The dimmest of light started 
to shine a way forward.
Tiny bursts of light between
long waves of darkness.

Giving glimmers of hope
and resilence.  I am 
shown that
my grief is the same as the depth 
of my love...
and this encourages the light
to shine brighter.

Moments turned to hours,
hours to days, days to weeks,
and weeks to months.

Each new days I get 
up and move 
my body forward as 
my mind tries to keep up.

The light keeps shining
and my mind and body
keep moving forward
embracing the darkness...

...because without the
depth of this darkness
this light would not
shine nearly as bright as it does.

That twinkle...My Twinkle...
has grown into a blazing
fire of grit & softness,
joy & hope, grief and love.

In gratitude,

Sarah

Grief and Friendship

I have been thinking a lot lately about friendship, and it's lack of parameters our society places on the value or definition of friendship.  It seems that each person likely has their own idea/understanding/expectations of what friendship means; of what it means to be a friend.  There is no social expectation or etiquette around openly sharing this "definition" with others when we meet new people, or when new people come into our lives.  To be fair, sometimes it's just mutually understood and doesnt need to be named...but many times it seems as though it's a bit illusive and by sharing these thoughts with one another, a lot of pain could be avoided in the long run of the relationship.

In my mind, the way I often show up for a friend, is the way that I would like to be shown up for...but I also recognize that in more sensitive situations, and as you really get to know someone, their needs might differ from yours.  In the beginning of a new friendship, I tend to show up the way I expect someone to show up for me.  As our relationship evolves, and more conversations have been had, more experiences, experienced together and the relationship deepens, I try to notice how my friend likes to have space held for them, and do that when they need it.  If it's unclear for a while how my friend needs someone to show up for them, I tend to default treating them the way I would hope they'd hold space for me.

I find it interesting how loose of a definition we place on friendship too.  I don't think we use the word aquaintence often enough, or appropriately either.  When my kids start a new camp, and they don't know anyone else attending...I often find myself saying "you'll make so many new friends this week!"  Which may be true...but it feels like a truer statement would be "maybe you will meet someone this week that will become a good friend."  

We have a lot of clarity and definitions around romantic relationships or parent-child relationships, and because of this, we also have more empathy when a romantic relationship doesn't work out be it a break up, or a divorce, or an estrangement of a parent.  Without the clarity on friendship, we also don't have a template or enough empathy as a society for what it means to lose a friend.  Losing a friend can cut deeper sometimes than losing a partner; and people brush it off like you lost a favorite earring at the beach or something.  How is this the case? Friends are people who you have chosen to be in your life-in my mind, of course it would cut deeper!

I have lost a couple of very dear friends through the last couple of years, and I have shed many tears, cursed many curses, and felt all the feelings around being disappointed, hurt, let down, SAD, lost etc.  Losing a friend when you had unknown expectations of that person to be in your life much longer than they chose to be, or had the capacity to be, deserves time for grief.  As I have learned, in these last few months especially, grief is MESSY and it shows up whenever the hell it wants to.  We aren't in control when it does show up, and it's just our job to let it show up, take over, move through.

This hellish pandemic has caused so many layers of grief for everyone in their own lives, that it's also hard to know what is even fair to expect of people anymore.  It feels like as a collective, we have lost our ability to know what we need, how to figure out what we need, let alone how to seek out what we need and nourish ourselves.  The only reason I have been able to loosely figure out how to move through each day, each week, each month etc, is due to past experience and drawing on what has worked before.  And even that has its limitations, because I am not the same person I was a year ago.

I don't make it a secret that I struggle with my body image.  It's been a life long struggle of mine.  And over the last 18 months, it's been the biggest internal struggle I have faced daily.  Of the last 18 months, we were coming out of the darkest part of covid for about 3 months (trying to recover from a hard year of it all), tried to get pregnant for 7 months, got pregnant TWICE and was pregnant for about 6 months, and have spent the last 3 months recovering from not only losing both pregnancies, but also losing a bit part of myself in the process.  I have been filled with hatred and resentment towards my body because I feel betrayed, disconnected and angry that it's not doing what I want it to do; or it's not looking the way I think it should, or want it to look.  These negative feelings don't help any healing take place though.

Even though I have not had a wonderful relationship with my physical body for most of my life, I have always thought that I am a fun person to hang with.  I have a great sense of humor, I am smart and can carry on great conversation.  I am generous, loving and caring.  I have no issues being vulnerable and open about all the things.  I am so strong, physically and emotionally.  I'm a great mom, even if I wonder that some days, I know in my heart I am.

What these last few months have shown me as I try to come back to myself is that I need to befriend myself.  I would NEVER not be friends with someone if I thought about their bodies the way I think about mine.  It would NEVER cross my mind.  When becoming friends with someone, I want to find all the qualities that I just listed that I like about myself, in someone else.  Add in someone who will challenge me to learn, and be my best honest self always.  In this process of returning to me, I think I have befriended myself more than I ever could have expected to.  And even though my grief over lost friends, or grief of having to drastically shift expectations of friendships is all valid...it's also softened by the fact that I have become my own best friend and I will never leave myself (consciously) again.  If I do disassociate, I also know that I am always here to come back to.

So as the growing and the learning continue to happen daily, I have realized that friendship is incredibly sacred to me, but it doesn't mean it is to everyone.  I have A LOT of amazing aquaintences and a small handful of very good FRIENDS...and that's ok.  Most of all, becoming my own friend has opened my heart in ways I never knew could happen; and I hope you can find your way to yourself if you haven't already.

Thanks for reading <3 

A Year of Yes

Something I have noticed in my relatively short time on this planet, is how so many people live in fear and in resistance to let go.  Let me be clear: I am included in this observation of humans who live this way.  We are pumped full of contradictory advice, and unrealistic expectations of how we are supposed to be, and when we're supposed to "have it all figured out."  It's easy to be scared.  Scared of failing, scared of change, scared of letting go for fear of the unknown. 

Many of you know, (and many of you don't) that what brought me to my yoga mat for the first time almost 17 years ago, was a life of gymnastics and ballet i.e injury and anorexia.  I now consider the tumultuous times of physical and emotional pain, to be my biggest blessing and teacher, because ultimately it's what got me on the path to healing myself, and being able to hold a healing space for others.  I knew after my very first yoga class that I found my "thing."  When I love someone, or something, I won't let go.  Some call it stubborn; I call it loyal and dedicated.  When I love, I love with my whole being and you get all of me.  Yoga received all of me just as I was (and continues to do so) and allowed me to heal, grow, be vulnerable and see a clear path for myself.

Somewhere along the journey of life, I got married and had a couple babies.  Becoming a mother has shaped me more than anything has in my 33 years here.  Children are little mirrors, and can be the littlest biggest teachers on this planet if we let them be.  That's not always easy though.  In fact, it's often very challenging and unpleasant to be faced with seeing all your faults and places you can improve on being a better human.  But isn't that INCREDIBLE?!  That we'd be given a chance to go so much deeper within ourselves that we can actually become a better, and eventually the best, version of who we have always been?  I think so.

However, I have realized how far down the fear rabbit hole I had gone since becoming a mother.  At some point, I began saying no to things I used to say yes to, because I was scared to either: leave my babies, trust anyone but me, fail at motherhood, fail at something I used to be good at but no longer was...the list goes on.  No was easier.  I lost myself in all this fear and all these no's. 

Whenever I notice how disconnected to myself I am, my "go-to" has always been to go on a yoga retreat with teachers who I trust with my whole being.  It always brings me home to myself, and allows me to go into that safe space within, to really see what's going on.  So, in February of this year (2019), I went to Guatemala to reconnect with my spirit who felt so suffocated I didn't know what else to do.  It worked.  It just worked a little differently this time than the last few retreats I'd been on.  This time, it lasted a lot longer, and was quite a bit more painful.  It was in Guatemala that I realized how fearful of a space I had been living in.  I was very validated in why my fears existed, as in January 2018, my husband suddenly lost his job of 7 years and we had a 6 month old and a 3 year old, and I had just scaled way back on working so I could focus on mothering 2 children instead of 1.  That really spiraled me into a fearful space!

Guatemala gave me the opportunity to see how far we'd come out of that darkness and into a lighter, more stable, wonderful space...which was the biggest blessing.  But it also meant I had a lot of work to do!  It meant I needed to start saying YES when my knee-jerk reaction was to say NO...and this was scary!  It was also invigorating, and it ignited so much life within me.  So I started saying YES.

I went sky diving.  I participated in a triathlon.  I signed up for a spartan race (coming up soon!).  I signed up for another retreat next March to Colombia so I'm not waiting to be in the darkness to go on retreat, but going from a lighter space to get even deeper work done!  I became a vegan.  The list goes on.   The work continues...and the more I say yes, the more grounded I feel.  When I notice something I might want to do, if it seems scary, then I do it and show myself how strong I am.

A profound realization for me in the observation of so much fear, is how little faith and trust people place in themselves, and therefore in others.  I have always considered myself a very spiritual person who believes in God, Mother Nature, the Universe (whatever you want to label it)...but what I realized is how disconnected I was to having faith, and trust in myself when I kept saying no, and being scared.  Every time I say yes, I trust the Universe, I trust my path, and I trust myself that I'm living a bold, beautiful, life with no regrets. 

So many of us are disconnected from our Spirit, because we live in a world that can be quite painful when we are truly connected to what's going on within us, and around us.  Sometimes it's just easier to be disconnected, just to get through the day.  The question I ask myself though is: is that really what I want out of this life I have?  I'd rather feel the intensity of being connected, because I know I'll be bringing my true, vulnerable, brave Self to the table and there won't be room for fear...only compassion and love.  That in and of itself is scary, but if we all say YES and show up, then we have nothing to lose.

What are you going to be courageous enough to say YES to this year?

In Gratitude,
Sarah

What Else Ya Got, 2022?

 Current mood: BRING IT ON.  

This year has been one of the hardest years of my life.  

Quick recap:
First miscarriage (suspected twins), Dec 2021. 
Big move to western mass, in a blizzard (a good thing, but a hard thing), January 2022  
Find out we're pregnant again (surprise!), January 2022
Commence puking, exhaustion, inability to settle into new home, Jan-March 2022
Find out we're losing our second baby, March 2022
D&E procedure (first time i have ever had an IV or anestesthia, April 2022
Roe V Wade news gets released, April 2022
Hospital messes up genetic testing on our baby including it's sex, Apirl 2022
Ulvane School shooting, May 2022
Get COVID, June 2022

Were there some great things that happened in there? YES!  I got to go on two magical yoga retreats, and I know in my BONES that if I had not had that time to connect with myself I truly would never have survived all the things listed above.  I mean it.  I would have been crushed.  We also gained a new family member in Feb...my niece (who I have yet to meet because of life and covid).  We were also HELD BY SO MUCH LOVE and support and light during the darkest months of our lives.  There has been plenty of good.  But it's been A LOT of not so good and I have hardly processed the half of it.  Life doesn't slow down though.  It just keeps going and going and going and you have to keep up.  So we've somehow kept up.  Somehow I haven't been crushed.  Yoga, therapy, grief counseling, friends, family, snuggles, ice cream, triathlon training and our new beautiful spacious home have kept me OK.

In the beginning of 2022, my intention for the year was to create more spaciousness, and find more joy.  We created a lot more physical spaciousness in our move and it has made things a lot more manageable in many ways-having some actual physical space to be in our grief and to move around without feeling like we were cramped.  For a minute, there was also a lot more spaciousness in my heart due to a new baby we thought we were having, but also due to the incredibly meaningful time I got to spend with myself, and my baby on the second retreat I attended in March.  I felt new chambers of my heart open up so wide, and a deeper connection with myself than I have ever felt since becoming a mother. 

I'm convinced that the spaciousness that was cultivated/discovered is what allowed there to be enough space for all of the grief that came shortly after.  Of course, grief IS love, and there was so much space for it within my heart and my body.

As I come out the haze of grief, life moving so fast, navigating my days, organizing our schedules, figuring out how to pivot my work to not be so triggering, training for a triathlon in Sept...I am starting to find joy again.  Bits and pieces here and there.  Usually, the most joy I have found is when I am moving my body, feeling embodied, and connecting to my physical strength.  Last Sunday, I went for a bike ride for the first time in over 2 years.  I went out attempting 10 miles, feeling that was a good starting point.  About halfway through the ride, I came upon a gnarly hill.  I looked at it and literally said out loud "Oh fuck me."  In my verbal moment of doubt, still moving forward, two cardinals flitted out in front of me, at the top of the hill, dancing, as if to say "you have done so many harder things than ride up this hill."  So I rode up the hill and felt pure exilarating JOY at the top of it.  And i completed the 10 mile ride I set out to do. 

I have conquered some of the hardest days of my life--not always with grace--but that's not always expected--and I am still standing.  Life has been harder on most humans since Jan 2020...but my life has been REALLY hard for the last 6 months.  I somehow have not been crushed, but instead have already found ways to appreciate my strength (both physically and emotionally), allowed myself the space I deserve to be a mess, and leaned heavily on all the support I have cultivated over the years of my life.

Tish Melton sings the most beautiful song for my favorite podcast...the name of the song and the podcast "We Can do Hard Things"...there is a line in the song that sings "I hit rock bottom, it felt like a brand new start; I'm not the problem, sometimes, things fall apart..."  This resonates deeply this year.  I hit rock bottomn in terms of my physical and mental/emotional health (for me), and it is now starting to feel like a brand new start.  I get to reinvent how I see and appreciate my body.  I have more sacred appreciation and space for boundaries with work and where I put my energy.  I'm still working on the trusting the universe piece...some days are easier in that regard than others...but when I do lean into the trust piece, everything usually falls into place.

Do I want MORE challenges to deal with this year? Hell no.  Am I going to have them?  Most likely yes.  Bring it on, 2022...you havent crushed me yet and you never will. 

In gratitude,
Sarah

My Honest Answer to the Simplest, but Hardest Question.

 "How are you doing?"

The worst question I have come to dread with all my being.  When asked this question, do I answer honestly? Or do I answer the way I know people would like to hear?  Here is my honest answer.

I'm not doing well.  I am consumed by a heavy sadness all the time that makes it close to impossible to feel any joy, even in the small things.  I miss the baby I was supposed to be growing and counting down the days till I could hold and snuggle them.  I miss sleeping because that's still a thing that completely alludes me.  I am deep in grief.  I'm grieving the loss of so much more than just the baby.  I'm also grieving the loss of seeing my kids become siblings and watching them nurture a little one with us. I'm uncomfortable in my body that changed so much for 6 months to house these babies, and now has no baby to help get her back to normal working function.  On top of my grief for these things, I have to move forward with the rest of the world, because life goes on.  I want life to just pause so I can have a MINUTE to even try and process the depth of my sadness.

Gratitude used to bring me back to myself.  Finding something to be grateful for used to reconnect me with my heart; bring me back into my body; offer perspective.  I can't seem to find that connection anymore.  When I try and feel my heart, all I feel is brokenness.  It's like the spark plug is dead and nothing can seem to fully revive it.

When I think of a bird's eye view into my life, I think "wow. I have everything I have ever wanted: a beautiful family, a dream house, lots of land, incredible friends etc"...but I can't seem to FEEL the beauty and gratitude of this reality.  It's just something my brain knows, and my heart can't feel.  I'm so fucking sad all the time.

Working as a doula isn't helping me heal.  It's shoving my grief into my face at a rate so rapid I can hardly breathe.  My resting heartrate is the highest it's ever been because I feel that I'm never resting.  I'm always on the edge of my seat, waiting to be needed, and anxious that I won't be able to hold the space that my clients need due to the depth of my grief.  Somehow, I find the space for them...and then I completely fall apart. It's a viscious cycle.  

I'm creating a temporary exit plan from birth work for a while.  I need a job, and I want a job, I just don't know what that is yet or what it will look like.  Having this plan, though it's not solidified as to what it will be, is helping me know I have a break coming up.  The current situation is not sustainable for me, my heart or my family.

So..how am I?  I'm not great.  I'm struggling.  I miss my baby.  I feel triggered all day by other people being pregnant; by thursdays because that's the day I would have been another week closer to meeting my baby; by my work; by social media which I also have an exit plan for; by my exhaustion because I can't sleep.  The heaviness and depth of my sadness feels endless-I don't think it will be this bad forever-but unfortunately grief doesn't have a timeline.  So until I start to wake up feeling less heavy, something needs to shift.

I can't really give this kind of answer to people when they ask how I'm doing.  So I usually just say "hanging in there.  Taking things day by day."

Numbed to my Core.

Content Warning: Pregnancy Loss

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Just as I began the process of healing after my miscarriage, we were packing to move houses and went through moving in the winter.  It was stressful but exciting and I was filled with so much gratitude for our privilege and support to be able to buy our actual dream home on so much land, so close to one of my dearest friends.

A week or so into living in our new house, I started to feel a little funny.  My breasts were tender and I had a raging patch of ezcema on my shin, which only happens when something is off hormonally (for me).  I hadn't gotten my period yet since the miscarriage, but realized it had been 7 weeks since it happened.  So I took a pregnancy test.  Sure enough: PREGNANT.  I was completely in denial that it was real because in that moment I realized I still hadnt processed the last loss.  I was expecting to have to track everything for a while to even get pregnant again, like we had to for 7 months before.  Within a few days of the at home test, I confirmed with a blood test and promptly started puking and dry heaving quite regularly.  Everyone tells you that's a good sign even if it feels shitty.

At around 9 weeks, I got an ultrasound to date the pregnancy since we werent quite sure on the date of conception.  The doctor confirmed I was 8 weeks 6 days along, with an estimated due date of Oct 6.  I have always dreamed of an October baby, so I could have a baby that shared a birth month with my grandmother.  All of my dreams were coming true.  New house, new baby to complete our family.  I continued to be incredible nauseous, gain weight, watch my breasts double in size, and hardly sleep due to the constant nausea.  I called myself "happily miserable" because I was so grateful we conceived with relative ease, but also miserable at how symptomatic I was...and comforted by all the vomiting because that's how my other two viable pregnancies had been.

On Friday, March 25, I went in with Jesse for my 12-week ultrasound.  We heard the heartbeat and saw some legs and arms.  As we waited for someone to read the results, I offered the ultrasound tech to have them call me if we were making her next appointment late.  I had to get off to support a client in labor, and Jesse had a phone call he didnt want to miss.  She looked at me kindly and said "I am a little concerned with some of the things I am seeing, so my colleague is going to call in and talk to you about it before you go."  

World started spinning, because I stopped breathing.  I squeezed Jesse's hands and saw the worry in his eyes, as I fell onto the bed so as to not fall on the floor.  When the phone rang, my heart started RACING and I started crying.  I only remember bits and pieces of what she said to me.  "I'm sorry to tell you this over the phone.  No skull.  Small brain.  Exposed.  1 in 10,000 chance: Anencepholy."

I hung up, turned to Jesse, and collapsed onto the floor sobbing "I can't do this again" over and over.  My baby will never meet their brother and sister.  I will never hold this baby.  This baby, who has a heartbeat, cannot live outside of my body on this planet.  As all of these truths sunk into my broken heart, I couldn't breathe.  I began gasping for air and couldn't see anything except the blur of my grief in my eyes.  I thought my first miscarriage was the worst pain I could ever feel.  Wrong. This is so much worse.

I am stuck in this pregnant body for 5 more days because the earliest the hospital could schedule a D&C for me is not until Friday, April 1.  Yes, a D&C on April Fool's day, at 13 weeks and 1 day pregnant.  The only reason I am writing this down so soon is because I have to get it out of my body.  I cannot hold it all.  My hips have the deepest ache I have ever felt.  My head is splitting in half, and I'm still fucking nauseous.  Every time a wave of nausea hits me I am full of rage that I am going through this.  What did I do to deserve this?  I don't deserve this and neither does my family.  It's bullshit honestly.  Why would a little soul make it's way into my body if it was never able to stay?

Writing helps me in times of turmoil.  Sharing things through writing is easier for me, because when you name something out loud, it makes it so much more real.  This is as real as it gets, but I don't ever see a time in the near or even distant future that I will be able to name this experience out loud without sobbing hysterically.  I'm sure that time will come at some point...but not for a long while.

I look pregnant.  Most people knew I was expecting.  I openly shared it with many because of my naive confidence in this body and pregnancy and some unconcious belief that nothing this painful would happen to me after an already excrutiating experience.  I was so wrong.  

I have closed my heart for now.  I cannot let too much in otherwise I cannot breathe.  I am completely suffocated by how much it all hurts if I don't keep it out.  The anger and the rage also protect my heart right now, and I know that's ok.  I will not be able to start healing from this trauma until after I have the procedure to end this pregnancy and give this baby it's peace.

Please do not interpret this sharing as bravery.  I do not feel brave.  I am just who I am.  I do not feel strong, but I have 2 children and an adoring husband who will get me through this hell I am in.  And I have you.  Everyone who supported us through the last loss, made it easier to breathe.  Asking for help I suppose is bravery...that is my only act of bravery here.  I need your help.  I need your thoughts, your prayers if you pray, your check ins, your gift baskets, your gift cards...whatever it is you send my way.  It all helps my heart from completely icing over.

Sharing this story isnt as much for myself, as it is for others who do not have the voice to say what they experience when they go through something like this.  This terrible shitty situation is not my fault.  I have asked all the questions regarding things I could have done differently, looked into genetics, and analyzed my own behavior in life.  I don't deserve this.  No one does.  But everyone deserves support, and you can't get support without asking for it.

Thank you for reading.  Please send me your love and strength this week, and especially on Friday, a day I assume will likely be the worst day of my life to date.  I am scared, anxious and deeply saddened by terminating this very wanted, hard worked for pregnancy.  I will need all the strength, love and support I can get to get through it all.

With love, and a very numb everything,

Sarah