It has taken me almost 20 years to acknowledge the impact of ten lost little lives, or seven miscarriages.
My first miscarriage occurred on the 14th April 1995, almost 22 years ago.
September and October of every year, a deep hole sinks inside my very being, as my subconsciousness snaps into emotional turmoil.
I cope ( that’s what I had convinced myself ) through various methods of denial, working long hours, taking on extra projects, cleaning the house, being busy doing everything and absolutely nothing.
My journey to acknowledging my grief has taken so long, because I foolishly believed filing and archiving my emotion was the best choice.
As the years passed by, the kilos grew on my body.
Kilos that I will not shed, through diets, exercise or medication.
Kilos of unresolved grief, with layers of protective fat that cushion my body, as unresolved grief weeps within my subconsciousness.
I have come to realise, for the sake of my own health, my marriage and my beautiful children it’s time to open up the file cabinets.
Time to stop the destructive cycle I have maintained for all too long.
Grief begins to demand my attention…..
At a conference where I shared a room with a complete stranger, tears ran down my face as my body shook and out of no where I blurted out that my first miscarriage of twins would have been 18 years old and my second set of twins miscarriaged at 16 weeks only a year later, would have been 17 years old.
My poor roommate gazed at me like a kangaroo staring at a set of car lights in the middle of the road.
I could almost see the “OMG don’t tell me” all over her face.
Fortunately for her, and myself, I had appointments/commitments that I had pre-scheduled.
She reminded me of my obligations, as I pulled myself together and got on with my tasks at hand.
That was the end of that, I never did it again.
Acknowledging my restrained grief
It took me three years later to realise the significance of that moment.
I had finally allowed myself to admit the anniversary of their loss.
I wish I could tell you it was rainbows and lolly-pops from that day on, but that would be a huge lie.
Three years on, I still haven’t come to terms with my grief.
Instead, since I watched the death of both my mother in law and then followed five months later by my father in law it’s impact caused me to isolate myself.
I have experienced depression and added another 22 kilos on my already overweight body in two short years.
What is your WHY?
Five months ago, a friend pulled me up by asking me one question.
You see, I was deep within my 22 year cycle of denial.
I was busy with work, business, podcasting, family, taking on new projects, shutting myself in my office until 4:00 am each and every day.
I would then get up at 7:00 am to do it all over again.
I was exhausted, soulless and empty.
As she asked me why was I living like I was ….. I sobbed.
It was only then that it hit me, it was another anniversary of ten little lives I would never meet.
Although I didn’t get to cuddle them, wipe their tears, hear their laughter or witness their first steps, their loss is real..
As I wept, I felt selfish, ungrateful, stupid.
A little voice inside my head sneered at me saying “How dare you feel so empty and gutted you stupid cow!”
“You have four beautiful children, shake it off and stop your feeling sorry for yourself!”
Following the anniversary of their delivery dates, I am again left feeling physically and emotionally exhausted.
Everything at that moment is an effort, I lose my drive and my energy disappears.
I have come to the realization that I cannot be alone in this feeling of prolonged grief, and it’s time I wrote about my journey to change it.
Maybe, this process of finally putting my memories in writing will help me heal, and help my readers know …. you are not alone.
It’s time to shed the weight around my body and my heart..
I have no idea where these series of blogs will take me, but ….. here I go!