Article on Grief

A friend who knows grief well shared this amazing article with me:

The One Thing No One Ever Says About Grieving

A few parts that really spoke to me:

Grief crowds the heart, eats up all your energy and chronically imposes upon your peace.  But grief isn’t some evil force that’s only there to cause pain, grief is escorting up an even deeper feeling, a truth about your life, what you value and what you need.  Perhaps how much you wanted something, how deeply you care about someone, how far you’ve come from where you were.

And

Please remember, the grief you’re experiencing is yours, and you can carry it with you for as long as you like. Let go of it only when you feel ready-enough, and if you never feel ready, that’s okay.

The author uses the metaphor of a looping path to describe how grief comes in spurts, only to be swallowed or numbed for a while, then it jumps up at us again, followed by more numbing.

Some losses are so exquisitely painful, in a way that no one else could ever fully understand, that no one would fault you for staying in the loop.

What really spoke to me was the permission to stay in the loop until you’re ready to get out of it. I go back and forth as to whether I’m ready or not. I’m still not entirely sure.

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Ultrasound Party? You’ve Got to Be Kidding Me

Ultrasound Party? You’ve Got to Be Kidding Me

Okay, I know I said in a recent post that I want to get to a place where I can celebrate happy times with my loved ones like I used to. However, if anyone-including my own sisters-ever invited me to one of these ultrasound parties, I would tell them to fuck off (politely, of course). I would be there to congratulate them when they announce the baby’s sex, and I would attend the baby shower (I’d even play the silly games), but I would not subject myself to viewing the inside of someone else’s uterus while a room full of people ooh and aah.

Call me crazy, but this kind of thing should be private. I wouldn’t want to go to an ultrasound alone, but there’s no way I would want a room full of people there. What if it’s bad news? What if there’s no heartbeat, or what if there’s something else wrong with the baby? What if someone in the room silently suffers from infertility or loss and is heartbroken to see your healthy baby?

I thought sex reveal parties (yes, I mean sex ; you won’t know the baby’s gender until much, much later) were too much, but this takes the cake.