Some beautiful writing from my beautiful wife.
We’ve been unfortunate enough to experience the pain of late or “missed” miscarriage twice this year. Waking up post-surgery for the second time in six months I felt the urge to write to try to process things. It’s raw and messy but then that’s life sometimes…
To those of you kind enough to ask how I feel:
The answer is broken: and unsure how I begin to put myself back together again this time.
The answer is guilty: for putting everyone through this again, for not appreciating what I already have, for daring to try and hope that things would be okay, for wondering what on earth is wrong with me.
The answer is angry: I’ve spent seven months of this year expectant yet lacking – twice through the anxious sicky first trimester without reaching that glow. Seven months of watching Tom gladly carrying the heavy loads, looking out for me, worrying about me, seven months of us daring to hope. All for nothing.
The answer is sadly jealous: of those healthy bumps and happy bundles, of how easy this seemed the first time round, of those enjoying this beautiful season without the taint of sadness.
The answer is empty: seven months of secretly hiding signs, planning an escape from work, seven months of daring to hope, of laughingly planning names, of dreaming such beautiful plans for you both – now dashed.
The answer is fearful: of a new year empty of these hopes, of a new year where the prospect of starting over feels like a huge mountain. Fearful of the dark places and lonely nights grief takes you, fearful of these emotions becoming the ones that define me.
The answer is weary: knowing what it’ll take to pull through this a second time, weary of the emotions, the going through the motions, the waiting for answers which might never come.
The answer is questioning: more questions, ever questions: what happened, what now, what does this mean for the future and why us? But then why not us?
And yes, the answer is doubting and shouting at God: yet determined to hold on to the hope that I have in the One who comforts and grieves with us.
The answer is completely blind to what the big picture is: but believing that one day we’ll know.
The answer is determined: to carry on, to find laughter in the tears, joy in the blessed distraction of Dylan. Determined to hold what I have more closely, to rebuild again stronger.
The answer is surrounded: by love, by care, by prayer, yet trying desperately not to feel alone.
The answer is richly blessed to have such love in my life.
So the answer is dark at present, yet pierced by light
The answer is holding on to the hope of a time when things will feel brighter
And yes, the answer is broken. But not yet beaten.