Hello everyone! I am so sorry for my long gap between posts, last month was incredibly busy (and my computer died). Between traveling, visitors, and appointments I only had 2 days where I wasn’t engaged in some way. It was wonderful to see so many people I love and to get to share time with them.
I learned a lot of things last month about myself and our journey…
Firstly, I learned that grieving, at least for me (an introvert), requires space. Now what does that mean? For me, it means that I need time to spend processing, talking about, and thinking about my little baby. It means space to fall apart and spend a day on the couch snuggling Logi Bear because the pain of not having my son in my arms is overwhelming. It means loving myself enough to listen to what my body is telling me.
Secondly, I realized that being the grieving parent and also a caregiving personality is an interesting combination. I am always concerned with how others feel and how my actions affect them. If I perceive that my sharing about my son is uncomfortable for them, I shut down and put on my “I’m ok mask.” This mask serves a dual purpose, it also allows me to shield my incredibly raw wounds from what may not be a safe space.
A loving family member shared their concern that I seemed to have shut people out and that I was apparently not playing the part of being “ok” as well as I thought (good thing I am not an actress!). I was able to take my mask off and really share how incredible Logan’s life was and how much he affected us, it felt authentic and amazing to bear so much of my heart and soul. (You know who you are, Thank you!)
Thirdly, I realized that I was readily putting on my mask because I was holding feelings of shame for bringing pain to others. I have felt ashamed that because my son died (read: because I couldn’t help him build a body that would bring him a long and healthy life like a mother is supposed to do) others were experiencing the pain of grief for both the loss of Logan and for Brian’s and my pain. How could I be open to others about my pain, potentially adding to their pain, when I felt so ashamed that they were in pain because of my failure in the first place? Maybe hiding behind a mask would help them suffer less…
Not messed up at all (read sarcasm)
Fourthly, realized that I feel incredible shame for needing to take time and space for myself and not being ready to return to work. I am used to pushing past my own needs for the sake of others (I mean, working a 12 hour shift without time to eat or go to the bathroom was my norm for the better part of a decade). Last month’s trips showed me without a doubt that I am not yet in a place where I can return to work. It leaves a big open space in front of me that feels like a big windy cliff of disappointment with no visible bottom… Again, as the caregiver I feel incredible shame that I am failing everyone. Thankfully I have some incredible support at my back encouraging and caring for me while I find my voice to speak for my needs.
Finally, I really held (and hopefully released) that I feel incredible shame about my body. Here I am, incredibly overweight (finally starting to lose it), in chronic pain (It is finally starting to get better), and my hair is falling out at an alarming rate all because of a pregnancy where I failed to grow a healthy baby. To me, my body had betrayed me in every way possible. Add to that frequent anxiety and panic attacks and it hasn’t exactly been a recipe for self love and admiration.
For the last several months, being in public has been a bit uncomfortable because of how ashamed I felt about my body (Don’t worry, I have also berated myself to being shallow). All I can say about this is that I am working through my feelings and beliefs behind this and getting support to heal.
To boil it all down to the core… it all comes down to my fear of how I will be perceived by others. My answer to the, “if you could change any one thing about yourself what would it be?” question is that I wouldn’t care so much about what other people think and not have to muster up the strength of a lion just to make the best choice for myself.
As one of my favorite authors and teachers, Brene Brown says, shame cannot survive in the light. I am shining a light on some of my greatest shames in the hope that I can work through them. I so appreciate you all for allowing me the space to be vulnerable and share my journey. Your reading and sending love and support has been such an important part of my healing journey ❤
I am sending my love to you ❤
“If we can share our story with someone who responds with empathy and understanding, shame can’t survive.” ~ Brené Brown
Good Things:
• I was able to give and receive lots of incredible hugs with people I love this past month
• I got to celebrate my cousin’s wedding
• I was able to see my daddy for the first time in six months
• It is fall!
• I am blessed with such incredible friends and family
• I have the most wonderful partner who is always supportive and willing to listen