We often hold deep, deep secrets. Secrets that are important to us, secrets that make up our story and shape who we are. We often shy away from telling our stories, whether it be out of fear, shame, or doubt. In our case talking about infertility and pregnancy loss seems too taboo a subject to discuss, something that should be hushed, embarrassing and something that in our minds people just don’t want to hear.

But it is so important to tell your story at the right time to anyone who will hear. Your story is a part of who you are and should be told. Now, don’t get me wrong wisdom and knowing the right timing is essential. What I am saying is that telling your story whether bad, good, or great is essential in your maturing and growing. Even though the topics I have previously addressed are difficult telling parts of my story has helped in my healing. Speaking about my pain helps the memory of my son live on, his memory is important to me and his story like mine must be told.

I recently heard a song by Johnnyswim (if you follow me on Instagram then you know I’m slightly obsessed with them) titled “Let it Matter” and it spoke to me on so many levels. Here are some of the lyrics that spoke to me the most:

“So if it matters let it matter

If your heart’s breaking let it ache

Catch those pieces as they scatter

Know your hurt is not in vain”

Today I tell you, let it matter. It might not be today or tomorrow but one day tell your story, whether you write in a letter for someone to read long after you’ve gone, whether you record it in a video, whether you post it on Facebook or a small blog… Let it matter.

“they overcame him by the blood of the lamb and the words of their testimony” (Rev 12:11a)

– JT 

So, if you have visited my Instagram at any point during the past two weeks then you know my next adventure is on the horizon!

I call it an adventure because that’s exactly what it is. The next step towards our goal, plus a fun trip to accompany it all. This new adventure will bring about a major shift in our lives and I am very excited to see it come. I hope you will stay tuned because in the next couple of posts I will be sharing all about our trip and the reasons why.

#MicroblogMondays

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

To find out more about Microblog Mondays, click here.

I decided months ago that on this journey I would opt for transparency in many aspects. The journey of pregnancy loss and infertility is ugly and lonely, but if I can help others not feel as lonely I will do so.  Below is a short video of one of my ugly days, it’s real, it’s raw, and it’s open. It’s me.

Twenty days into the second month of 2019 and I still haven’t written my first post. Mainly out of fear and avoidance. Avoidance because I do not want to deal with all of the complex emotions.

The beginning of a new year brings about desires for new resolutions and goals for the fresh start. This year I find myself with none of those desires. In the past I entered into each New Year with some new goals and some of the same ones. Whether it is saving more money, getting closer with God, reading more, or buying a new car, resolutions often change from year to year but there are some that remain the same and don’t change. I can tell you that for as long as I can remember one of my constant goals have been to lose weight, some years I meet my mark and others I don’t and I am ok with that. However for the past four years one of my goals has remained, to get pregnant and have a baby. I remember entering 2018 full of hope, praying and wishing that 2018 would be the year that would bring me new life in the form of a child…another year broken and unmet “goals”.

2019 is different, I find myself with no desire to think of my goals for this year or what our family plan should look like. All I know is that even though I haven’t decided on what my resolutions/goals (or whatever you prefer to call them) I haven’t given up. Though I am at a place of great loss and pain I choose to still see the light, I choose to believe that this is not my end, I choose to remember the words of an old song “He has not brought me this far to leave me”. So although this year a baby isn’t on my list I have chosen to focus on things that I can “control”, things like my prayer life, what I consume (literature, TV, music, food), travel, my spending, and my outlook on life, posting on a regular basis.

2019 is different. The difference is complex and I cannot unwrap it’s complexity in this one post but I promise if you stick with me we can unwrap it together and you can join me on my incredible journey.

I was personally dreading the upcoming holiday season, the 2018 Holiday Season was supposed to be different. I was supposed to be big and round with a belly sticking out. Thanksgiving weekend we would have traveled home to NYC for my first shower and the weekend after would have been my second shower, where we live. Those weekends, they came and went. The sadness stayed.

This Christmas would have been different, I had dreamed of taken amazing silhouette pictures by the tree, of wearing cheesy outfits and of snuggling my growing bug. This holiday season won’t be as expected. I have spent the holiday season wrestling with myself regarding how I feel and I have come to the conclusion that two contradicting truths can exist and often go hand in hand.

I can be in a place of grief and mourning yet still be thankful. I can have an attitude of gratitude and still be sad. It doesn’t have to one or the other, it can be both. In this season of grieving, I have learned a lot, I have learned what works for me and what doesn’t. I have learned to put the process of my emotional healing first and I have learned to be unapologetically me, despite the ugly things this type of grief brings out.

I have learned to be kind to myself and that it may look different for everyone and may vary from day to day. So what does “be kind to yourself” mean to me?

• It means to not beat myself up for how I feel. It means to embrace where I am for the moment, to cry when I feel like crying and to laugh when I feel like it. It means to not feel guilty for feeling happy or embracing moments of joy. Often times when you lose a child you feel like you are betraying them if you feel happy, laugh or sing. But I’m not betraying them. I’m embracing life and living it.
• Being kind to myself sometimes means giving myself a gentle nudge to get out of my funk, sometimes it means to force myself off the couch and do something else. But sometimes it means staying on the couch and do nothing else.
• Being kind to myself means treating myself with love and respect, to be patient with myself, to understand that I need to make this journey my own.

In this holiday season I have learned to embrace that my normal will no longer look the same, I will have a new normal, my life has been forever marked by the loss of my child. In my new normal I need to learn how to have joy in the midst of loss and that is a task that is not easily attained. So this Christmas we decided to start new traditions, traditions that we would have hoped to start once we had kids, but why wait?

I’ve never had a real Christmas tree before and this year we decided would be the year to start. We went to a beautiful tree farm, spent an hour in the cold and snow to find the perfect tree for us. So let me tell you, even though we don’t have our baby with us we were able to have found and enjoy the start of something new!

This Christmas I would encourage you to embrace your season, dig deep within yourself and don’t be afraid to live!

The following post is sensitive and may have some triggers

It was August 14, 2015, and I had been bleeding for about a day or two but because I had taken test after test I didn’t think anything of it and just thought I was finally getting the period I had missed for 4 months. Well on this day I bled heavier than ever. I was in what felt like excruciating pain, the cramps were normal at first and then got worse and worse as the day progressed.

At the time I was unemployed so I had started a small daycare in my home, that day I had two children to look after so despite the pain I had to go on. I played with them, fed them and then finally nap time came, I figured I should probably try to lay down and maybe the pain would subside but I was wrong. As I laid in the bed the pain became more intense and worsened so I gave up on napping. I moved to the couch and felt such intense pain in my lower abdomen and vagina, I had no clue why my “period” was so bad this month. I sat up on the edge of the couch and suddenly I had an overwhelming need and desire to push. Many thoughts went through my mind but I specifically remember thinking this is either a massive clot or somehow I am having a miscarriage. I pushed the thought of a miscarriage as deep and far as I could. So then with the next “cramp” I pushed. I pushed and got a sense of relief, then I got up and headed to the bathroom because I had to check and see what came out. I sat on the toilet and heard a “plop” when I checked I couldn’t see anything so I think whatever came out sank straight down in the toilet and drifted (at this point I have no clue that I am miscarrying).

Because I knew that something was definitely off with my body I used my fingers to check my vagina. I pulled out a very large piece of something that was the size of my palm, flesh-colored, and kind of looked like a piece of chicken breast, and at this point I am internally freaking out. Once again I tried to push the thought of a miscarriage as far back as possible as if trying to expel it from my brain. But no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe just maybe it was a miscarriage. I stayed on the toilet for a while because although my body expelled a large piece of tissue I still felt an urge to push. I waited for what I suspected to be a contraction and with it, I pushed more clots and tissue came out and I knew then that I was miscarrying. I texted a friend who’s a mom for some support and guidance because I felt like I had no idea what was happening to my body or what to expect. I told her that I thought it was a miscarriage and explained how everything was happening and she agreed.

At this point, I felt so alone. My family lives in a different city and I felt like there was no one I could call/ I didn’t know anyone that had experienced a miscarriage so there was no one I could reach out to. I texted my husband and gave him a heads up. Then in the middle of the madness, I get a phone call from an older friend (who is like a mom to me) explaining that she fell from her porch and might have broken both her ankles. So now I’m truly freaking out because I’m almost 100% sure that I am having a miscarriage, my dear friend is on her way to the hospital, and I have two small children whose nap is about to be over. So I clean myself up, I clean the toilet and the floor from the remnants of the massacre that had just occurred. I push my emotions and feelings down because things need to get done. I knew I had a few minutes before I had to wake the kids up and a few hours before my friend got out of surgery.

I used my few minutes to call my doctor’s office and the conversation went like this:

Me: hi yes I’m calling because I think I’m having a miscarriage

Secretary: what makes you say that?

Me: well I just had a horrific amount of clots and flesh colored tissue come out of me

Secretary: well did you know you were pregnant

Me: no, but I am 100% sure that this is what is happening

Secretary: well if you say so, what’s your name and date of birth?

Me: I provide the info.

Secretary: it looks like we can get you in at 9:45 am NEXT FRIDAY

My brain: —–, didn’t I tell you I’m having a ——– miscarriage and you want me to wait 7 days?!?!

Me: Well is that the earliest you have?

Secretary: yes.

Me: ok, then I guess I’ll take it.

I got off the phone feeling so discouraged. This was my OBGYN office, I was hoping I would get a little more compassion from them or that they would say “hey can you come in within 20 minutes or an hour or we don’t have anything available but can you go to the emergency room to make sure everything is passing as it should”. But no, instead I got a very cold reception and was made to feel as if I was dumb or stupid. I take 8 ibuprofens, wake the kids up and give them their afternoon snack. Once their parents come I get myself ready to go to the hospital to go to the ER to get meds and make sure that my body was ok. FALSE I did no such thing, I wanted to do that but instead I put my body and emotions on hold and drove straight into caring for my friend who needed me. I spent the rest of the weekend in the hospital with a few breaks here and there to shower and change. I wish I could tell you that the physical aspect of the miscarriage was over but it wasn’t. I cried every night because my body was taking its time shedding and getting rid of the pregnancy.

The pain was immense and felt unbearable, the amount of blood I was losing was scary but because of my previous phone encounter, I did not want to call the doctor’s office or go to the emergency room since the receptionist made it seem like I was just exaggerating my period symptoms.

To be continued…