According to Merriam-Webster, “in the field of communications, radio silence refers, rather straightforwardly, to a period or condition when radios are not transmitting”, there is no communication. I feel like that’s how I’ve been the past 3 ½ weeks; Radio Silent.

So much has happened in the past month that I just don’t know how to update you. I want to tell you all about my most recent adventure, I wanted to write about National Infertility Awareness Week (which already passed), I wanted to write about yesterday the first Sunday in May when International Bereaved Mother’s Day is observed. But instead, there was Radio Silence.

I wish I could say it’s a writer’s block but it ain’t, it’s more of an emotional block. The thoughts of should I really be writing about this? Should I really share what I write about this? Infertility and loss are such taboo and difficult topics, is it really worth writing about? I guess doubt created a block for me.

Either way sometime this week I will be sharing about my Chicago trip and all it entailed, where I am at emotionally and how I have been processing my thoughts regarding loss and living after loss.

This post is part of #MicroblogMondays, if you don’t know what that is and would like to know more click here.

JT

Today I asked her what she’d like for her upcoming birthday and her response was “the impossible”. I beat myself up for a moment knowing that I know better than to ask that type of question. Knowing that “the impossible” is the very thing I desire and long for as well.

I know that she’s broken but she won’t allow herself to be broken. I know the depth and heaviness behind those two words in her response. Those two words mean so much more than I can express.

“The Impossible” could mean for this to be a terrible dream, “the impossible” could mean that we could turn back time, it could mean that instead of our babies being in heaven they’d be in our arms.

The impossible. Oh, how many times have I asked for the impossible? Too many to remember, too many to count. “The impossible” could mean a million things that will all give us the same results: to bring our babies home.

I’d do anything to give her the impossible. To mend her heart and fulfill her desires, to wipe her tears and give her that one thing, the one person she longs for. But all I can do for now is walk with her, hold her hand and her heart through this heart-wrenching journey. All I can do is reassure that she’s not alone, all I can do is have hope for us both.

-JT

Last week I posted a rather emotional and raw video of some of my emotions throughout this journey. It was a difficult video to share because it was so personal and intimate, in the same way, I understand it was just as difficult to watch.

I recorded the video a couple of months ago and I couldn’t help but notice the paradox within; two things can be true, there can be two simultaneous truths, I don’t have to choose. I can ask questions and be angry, I can be sad and mourn yet still have hope, in the midst of pain I can still keep the faith.

Going through seasons of loss and despair is difficult especially when it seems that everyone wants you to move on. But who said moving on means you can’t grieve, that you can’t cry, or that you can’t express your inner brokenness?

Two truths can exist. I don’t have to choose.

#Microblogmondays

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