The Silence Behind Saying “I’m Great”

Somewhere Over The Rainbow  All I ever wanted was to be a mom and wife. As a little girl, I played for hours with my dolls and Barbies roll playing and pretending. It was no secret that my soul longed to be a caregiver to my own family one day.  Growing up into my teenage and young adult years, I was often called the mom of the group. Caring, providing, and protecting those around me is my nature.  When I was 18, I married a man I thought truly loved and respected me. However, our marriage didn't last. It wasn't built on love and family but on other things that were not sustainable. During my short-lived marriage, I became pregnant with my first daughter and gave birth to her in 2010. She changed my life and saved me from many self-destructive things, like eating disorders, bad sleep habits, and depression. Being her mom meant I had to care for myself to protect and provide her with a life of peace and happiness. Shortly after she was born, her dad and I got divorced. It ...

  You can tell me time heals all wounds all you want. You can try and tell me that the farther you get from one tragic life event to where you are now, the less it will hurt. Or you can try understanding that my reality determines where I stand with my trauma.   This week was one for the books, a record-breaking emotional roller coaster, and man, am I beyond exhausted at this point, mentally, and emotionally, my brain is on fire, and I can’t seem to extinguish the flames so that I can rest.  Pregnancy after miscarriage has been one of the hardest, scariest, most challenging things I have experienced.  Getting pregnant again after so much loss wasn’t easy, secondary infertility lingered around, and the negative test results were just as devastating as before.  The mental and emotional aspects of getting pregnant again were overwhelming; the doubts of if this was the right choice, the right time, or the right thing played like a broken record in my mind.  I h...

 Today was supposed to be my due date. Oh, how those words hurt so profoundly.  WAS.  Past tense, now a date that has just become another calendar day holding no meaning for anyone other than those of us who still feel the loss of my miscarriage.  December was supposed to look oh so different. I had Pinterest boards of inspiration for Christmas-themed newborn photography, amazon carts of Christmas sleepers, fuzzy warm blankets, hats, and socks. Wish list full of baby "toys." All of which now just sit untouched, unused, and no longer needed.  Idealistically I was supposed to be holding my first son in my arms, welcoming him into the world. We should be spending our days rocking in our chair near the tree as the wood cracked in the fireplace. I should be spending my evening preparing dinner for my family as my husband and son snuggled together on the couch after a long day of work. However, there aren't any cute Christmas outfits. No fuzzy socks, warm blankets, or...

  Not even 6 months ago, I loved the idea of going to a consignment sale, yard sale, or browsing the baby sections of the store.  My husband and I had  an agreement no matter how cute the item or clothing was, we wouldn't buy it unless it was gender neutral.  I used to enjoy the hunt. I'd easily spend the longest time sifting through piles or racks of clothing, looking for the perfect gender-neutral items.  This weekend I went to one of the biggest consignment sales in the area. I browsed for my girls and then went to walk about the baby gear, bouncers, swings, and strollers.  There were swaddles, carriers, and blankets, everything a mother could want for her baby.   I found myself quickly gravitating to the more "boy" colored or themed items. Trucks, monsters, dinosaurs.  I had to remind myself of my rule, but it was so hard to do because I was supposed to be in the home stretch of welcoming my son into the world. I was supposed to be in my 3rd t...

 September is Suicide Prevention Awareness Month. I really struggled with if and when id post this. To let my walls down and let others in. The only people who have ever read or heard this are my therapist and me.  Why post it if you aren't suicidal anymore? Are you looking for attention?  No, I'm not looking for any type of personal gain or attention. However, my heart truly does long to bring attention to the stigma around mental health and suicidal ideation.  Something I learned during those 15 days I was struggling is that the bystander effect is so real, and it's literally killing people. No one did anything because “surely someone else will.” I by no means was quiet about my struggles. I called, Texed, Posted, went to a mental health hospital, called a hotline, showed up in an ER, and kept getting dismissed because I kept saying, "I don't want to die." I didn't, but I was standing nose to nose with death for so long that I knew if something didn'...

There seems to be a particular code of etiquette around announcing a pregnancy.  Especially one after a loss, like you shouldn't tell anyone because if you end up having another miscarriage, you have to tell people again you've lost another baby.  "Congratulations! But you're going to keep it to yourself until you're out of the danger zone, right?"  I wrestle with that often. Who will I tell? When? After all, not telling people until a specific week of gestation doesn't automatically guarantee that my body will work correctly. And that the life of the unborn child inside my womb is protected because no one knows, right?  This 'rule' or 'recommended' about keeping new life a secret is silencing mother (and their partners) and forcing them into isolation. Why can't we just be excited for them in their pregnancy and, God forbid, if the time comes morn with them if it ends in a loss? What about life and death regarding pregnancy forces us t...