I find myself feeling the need to come on here and write when I’m feeling a bit…melancholy. I suppose that’s the word. I thought about that this morning; how this blog is not a reflection then of how I am in “real” life–the girl with a constant smile on her face. I’ve noticed the tone around these parts has been a bit serious and that may be the season I am in. But this will be the last post of that sort, at least for a short while.
I am so excited for the month of May and what I’ll be sharing on this blog. Be sure to check back tomorrow for a post where I will explain! For now though…
Today’s been a bit rough. May 1 is a bit rougher as I explained in this post last year. But it all started on April 30 and that’s where my mind has been all day.
Five years ago I experienced a miscarriage. I’ve processed the event enough to know it is not the worst thing in the world that can possibly happen to a person, and, yet, it hurts. You know? This date is etched in my mind and I woke up remembering that five years ago it was a normal morning. By mid-afternoon, I knew my world was changing.
I’ve done a lot of reading on miscarriages since that time and I appreciate each and every word I have read from other women that have gone through it. You don’t wish that pain on anyone and yet you are comforted to know you are not alone. The thing about miscarriage is that it is forgotten by everyone, pretty much…except you. No one would know the grief I carry in my heart today unless I told them. No one asks. No one follows up. No one brings meals.
And I’m not putting that responsibility on anyone. Again, there is SO much else happening to people who need help, and rightly so that they should be the ones to receive the calls and cards and meals. But the heaviness is there. And to not express it would not be true to who I am.
I think I don’t share so much of the “happy” times on here because I see how easy it is for people to share those parts of their lives. But I think you learn the most when people share their pains and trials. The nitty-gritty is what propels me to seek after God. It feels real. I hope that when I write, people do not see it as something depressing. Rather I hope the right person is reading and it is comforting to them to know they are not alone in whatever struggle it is they are going through. Whether it’s a lost baby or anything else.
I am hopeful for what May will bring though. I trust it will be a month of encouragement and finding joy in our callings.
But for today, as the rain drenches New York City, I allow the weight to bear down.
Five years have gone by quickly. Thirteen–the number of years my hubby and I have been together as of tomorrow–even faster.
And I am grateful for all the tiny moments, good and bad, that have added up to this beautiful life I get to experience.