A Painful Anniversary

Today is a painful anniversary. One I've, honestly, been trying not to think about all day. It helped (ha!) that our water heater broke this morning and our laundry room was flooded and I spent a good chunk of the morning thinking about that instead... but every time I get a spare moment to myself... it creeps in.

A year ago today - my whole life got turned upside down. Stood right on its head. I lost absolute control over everything about myself. A year ago today I learned that I had lost our baby. It was a true death for me. I grieved it as one. I still grieve our baby's loss. I may, likely, do so for the rest of my life.



A year ago today I thought I was going to die. I spoke to my sweet little boys on the phone and thought I was actually saying goodbye to them when I was telling them "Goodnight. Mommy loves you. Be good for Grandma and Grandpa." I thought I was telling my father goodbye when I managed to whisper "Just pray Dad, okay? Just pray. Get everyone to pray."

A year ago today our baby died, I ended up in emergency surgery, and while I didn't recognise it then, it changed everything. EVERYTHING. I've spent the past year out of work, in and out of doctors offices, psychiatrists offices, therapy, pharmacies. On and off different medications and dealing with the wacky side affects of starting drugs, coming off of them, and so on and so on and so on. I've spent the past year dragging myself inch by painful inch out of the deep, dark, empty nothingness that is depression, to feel like I've made some progress, only to find that ugly beast called Anxiety nipping at my heels and whispering in my ear.

There are good days. There are good moments. There are bad days. There are awful moments. There are days when I feel like I'll never be able to feel anything at all ever again. There are days when I feel like I feel everything all at once. It's exhausting and overwhelming and there are days when I just want to give up.

But I haven't. And while sometimes I don't feel like I've gotten anywhere in the past year, except maybe better at hiding my emotions, I have to keep pushing forward.

But not today. Today is a day when I think I have to give myself permission to be sad. A year ago we lost our baby. And we lost the hope of having another baby. I hesitate to admit that there will always be times when my little family feels incomplete.

Unfinished. Like a puzzle missing just one piece.

It's a painful anniversary. It's the 10th.

Tea.