

The New Year
Be gentle with yourself…and walk your own pace into the new year.

So how does a parent go on?
We carry this weight in our hearts and on our shoulders. We learn in some kind of way to hold this heartache. We figure out what helps us try to crawl, then walk, then dance this crazy balancing act. And you may fall even with this weight. It is not easy at all. It is WAY easier to type and say and read than to actually do, but it is there inside of you.

We are STILL STRONG!
“KEEP GOING! You are strong!”--Yes, I can see how this may be helpful in the pregnancy world of HG, but this just adds another punch to the gut to a HG Loss parent or partner.
Our loved one died. We are STILL strong!
Our loved one died. We are STILL strong!

Hope
Is there some type of hope? Not in the way as before the losses. Some type of light but it is through a dark dark space, like tiny twinkling sparks peeking through a veil trying to guide you somewhere.
Where do you think it is guiding you?
Where do you think it is guiding you?

“How do you cope?”
He told me he killed a bunny. And I thought of sweet George in “Of Mice and Men”. I’m not quite sure why he took its life but I watched the pain in his eyes. I felt I could relate to the responsibility of holding life in your hands… So I shared the story of my babies and how I terminated to save my life due to a rare pregnancy illness called Hyperemesis Gravidarum (HG), which meant saying GoodBye to my dearly loved and desperately wanted babies.
He immediately grabbed his chest and choked out, “How do you cope?”
I stumbled through the answer, trying to grab the bits of wisdom grief has taught me.
He asked me so bluntly to stop talking. He had broken down in tears in immense pain, still tightly holding his chest almost like someone had knocked the air out of him, hardly being able to catch his breath.
And I could see just how powerful a story can be. Powerful enough to make someone stop in their tracks and lose their sense of balance. To have their spirit scream through their skin with just a drop of a parent's grief.
I wondered how would he survive in my shoes?
He immediately grabbed his chest and choked out, “How do you cope?”
I stumbled through the answer, trying to grab the bits of wisdom grief has taught me.
He asked me so bluntly to stop talking. He had broken down in tears in immense pain, still tightly holding his chest almost like someone had knocked the air out of him, hardly being able to catch his breath.
And I could see just how powerful a story can be. Powerful enough to make someone stop in their tracks and lose their sense of balance. To have their spirit scream through their skin with just a drop of a parent's grief.
I wondered how would he survive in my shoes?