All the words I want to write go out the window once I touch my keyboard. Speechless. It may have taken way longer than usual for me to write this. What is a year? Besides 365 days. What does 1-year amount to? How is it measured, really? The ups and downs? Sometimes if you’ve encountered a loss it can make a year feel like a death sentence. What does a year feel like for everyone? Here are some examples.
An expecting mother: too long
A new mother: The first year flies by.
A senior in high school: A millenium.
An abused child: A lifetime.
A newly wed couple: Lightening speed.
A cancer victim: Everyday is a miracle.
A family on their annual vacation: Star struck by speed.
A grieving mother: Unexplainable.
It’s been a whole year since my miscarriage and I have finally seeked mental health for it. I take it all in and exhale it all out on a good day. But like world hunger or our homeless youth, I can’t help but still question why. Why does life have to be so unkind.
While my mind fills with hopeless answers and possible solutions, it often feels like a vicious cycle that will never end.
As I look back at the past year I use my trauma to measure a year. I can’t help it. Naturally it’s a date or a memory that marks my ‘year’. Even thought its been 365 days I know that it felt like the longest year of my life. Doing things to make the time pass has been interesting.
I reached a point where I questioned my every move. I’ve been on my lowest day where I couldn’t fathom shaking it.
I have also had amazing days that I never wanted to end- and still have that to hold on to.
I started a blog – that I can be proud of.
I conceived the idea that I will step up and do better for myself with self-care.
I reached out to friends I didn’t even know I missed.
I lost friends I thought were right for me.
I made new friends after my news.
All of this amounts to nothing. Nothing if you’re not me. But everything- if you are. As I grew stronger because of my miscarriage. Food started to hit a little different. Music. Friendships. Touch. Everything is a little different and in a good way. Learning to grow with the flow has been a piece I’d been working on in myself for sometime.
I’ve seen my mental health and wellbeing crash onto the shore like a raging ocean, in and out, in and out, so indecisive. Whereas- its been a year that I learned I can embrace that.
My Angel Babe will always be mine and be a memory I get to keep – just her and I. Because even though I was tested through a triumphant year – I still remember the feeling after the news I was pregnant. The ideas I pushed around in my head of what she would be like in my life and now not in my life. Days are measured by happy thoughts and moved away from the negative ones. Not everyone is perfect thus there are still down days.
Tribute goes to my year and what that means to me. In my culture when we’ve had a loss in the family, we cut our hair. I can’t say I’ve always done this but I am starting to, we cut our hair as a symbol of loss. I had my hair cut to signify the loss I had to endure but also the weight I’ve shed in stress over the last year.
To my baby in heaven. You are loved. You were real and you will always have a special place in my stories – in my heart. What a year it’s been without you…