Grief Comes in Like a Wrecking Ball

Man oh man, you guys. Grief. What a shit show.

One day I'm partying and laughing with friends, and the next day I'm curled up in the fetal position crying so hard I think I popped an eyeball vessel.

The holidays are no joke this year.

I am so, so happy to be surrounded by upbeat and receptive people.
You have no idea how grateful I am to see this tribe of friends that have been in our lives for 20+ years. They show up to our events year after year and we all get to watch each other's lives unfold.

It's amazing and I am truly humbled that we get to share each other's ups and downs.

And then, after a completely fulfilling weekend, I find myself breathing heavy as I cry into my pillow...saddened by the thought that I should have a four-month old.
Flash backs of the day of our miscarriage are still fresh in my mind.
I still feel every pain, every tug, every emotion that occurred in those quick minutes where I watched our baby die in the palm of my hand.

I remember Mark, hysterical, throwing up in the garbage.
The numbness. The emptiness.

Gosh I wanted and still want that baby so badly I could just punch through a brick wall with my bare hands if it meant I could have him back.

Life isn't all that fair, sometimes.

I can't believe I get the "luxury" of getting over this phase in my life.
I can't believe it didn't work.

The grief is just so overwhelming sometimes.
It usually rears it's ugly head as I'm trying to fall asleep.
When it's just me and my thoughts.

I will be sobbing next to Mark, while he sleeps peacefully.
Finally he will stir enough to hear the chaos and roll over to me, gripping me tightly, trying to force me to calm down.

But it needs to come out.
All the ugliness and loudness and gasping for air.
It needs to come out so I can move forward.

My therapist said I need to work towards giving him a name, something to call him by.
But I honestly have never come up with anything worthy enough.

He's always just Baby.
The baby I was supposed to spend our first holidays together with this year.

It's a weird time, right now.
Thanksgiving came and went, and it was all the same yet completely not.
We announced to our families on Thanksgiving and all our friends the day after at our annual Shrimp Boil Friendsgiving last year.
And now I have nothing to show for that celebration.

We all carried on in the most upbeat fashions, myself included.
We laughed and drank and played games and enjoyed each other, and yet...sometimes I catch people...stuttering...that tiny, quick...awkward silence.

Because I know they know...they remember too.
I don't know what to say anymore than the next person.

That's the stumbling, bumbling, raw emotions that people try so desperately to hide most of the time.
That's why I talk about it.
Because it never quite goes away.
The grief.
And when it does show up, it comes in like a wrecking ball.
But as quickly as it rolls in, it disappears and you feel normal again.

Keep moving forward, my friends, as I plan to do the same.
XO