A Spoken Grief

Sometimes it’s about the things that are hard that people don’t know, that I don’t know – unless I say so, or someone warns me or when the expression of the thing that is hard catches me unaware – and the emotion feels raw. All. Over. Again.

Suddenly in the midst feeling of hopeful and mostly normal it’s hard not be back to the question of “are these PMT symptoms” (after 3 months of none) or are they “early pregnancy” symptoms? Despite a commitment to not think about this until I see my doctor next, I can’t ignore the nagging niggle or monkey on my back that sometimes is quiet, but sometimes is really very loud.

I didn’t know how much I relished being pregnant – 20 HR morning sickness and all. I didn’t know how much I needed things to work out, even when a part of me questioned whether they would.

I am a planner, an organiser of my life. I manage my space. I seek to control my world through understanding what to do next, my work space involves helping others heal and supporting them in the midst of the hardness.

This I can’t control. I can make choices, but there are aspects of this grief that don’t feel controllable some days. Uncontrollable variables – we only get to choose how we respond to them.

I can’t manage how fast the pregnancy hormones leave my body – and should I even want to?

I can’t manage how my quickly body settles back into its own rhythm again.

I can’t manage the things that people say, with good intent but that aren’t helpful.

I can’t not think about this. It’s only been 3 and a bit weeks. I am still grieving and sad AND being hopeful. I am okay with grieving. I need to be allowed to do this. My hormones and mood and sadness are all entangled currently – not forever. Just at this moment. Right now.  On International Pregnancy Loss day. 

I am resentful and saddened by the fact of possibly having to manage monthly cycles again when I would rather be managing morning sickness.

I am resentful of having to consider sanitary ware when I would rather be considering maternity ware.

I am resentful of needing to work hard to get rid of the extra curves that are now there to manage a morning sickness that no longer is (The things that helped me I don’t normally eat at all- but they worked and I was deeply grateful that they did – sadly it was “oat crunchies” rather than cucumber some days).

I got all the pregnancy things people do and don’t discuss – the nausea, the dreams, the tummy issues, the food aversions, the scent sensitive nose of a blood hound, the exhaustion, and the random discovery that foods I don’t usually eat solve morning sickness and foods I used to love make me gag. I got all of that. A good taste of what looked like a healthy pregnancy. And then that felt like it changed in an instance.

AND

I know that this too will pass.

I know that my body will settle.

I know that there is hope.

I know that we will have a family – and that this first pregnancy will always remain a part of that story. The dream to birth babies and the dream to adopt remains.

I know that by focusing on all the things that I can’t control I lose sight of the space and place where I can find healing and rest.

I know that surrender to this next part of the story is needed. And if surrender requires more tears, more expression and more letting go of things that I struggle to, then I am choosing that.

IN the midst of anger, and tears, and heartache and a very normal in this context anxiety, I am back to the place of choosing to let go of my control. It scares me to do this. Yet, it scares me more to stay stuck in this place where it’s hard to love and be loved fully.

Rythm vs Rut

Over the past few weeks there have been a number of PAUSE and think moments that have challenged me about the way in which my life is lived. I have had to realign goals around health and fitness, I have had to think about what I believe about rest and relaxation, I have had to think about identity vs activity and the theme through all of this in many ways has been about letting go.

My first pause moment really came during a session with my fitness trainer who has had to talk my anxiety down regarding NOT being able to reach the goals that I wanted to before the end of August (I wanted to be running & cycling regularly again and 2 months ago was categorically told that I am not allowed to run. I am allowed MILD to moderate exercise 3 or 4 times a week but more MILD than moderate was the emphasis).

Lana reminded me, again, of controllable vs uncontrollable variables. That I didn’t choose to be in a place where this was the outcome BUT I can choose how I recover from it: I have no control over the fact that this HAS already happened, but I can choose the recovery plan – and the longer and harder I fight that, mentally or emotionally or physically, the longer the recovery plan will be. Controllable variables have meant relooking at goals. Controllable variables have meant redefining what health and fitness is going to look at end of August. Controllable variables mean that there is a little bit of flexibility needing to develop in this life story.

Ironically the exercises the doctor has encouraged are all about flexibility: Yoga, Pilates, stretching and walking! Lana has built the stretching into our training sessions and I have gone looking for appropriate yoga classes/ spaces.

On Saturday I wandered up a piece of the mountain (read steep uphill) with Kate, 2 yoga mats and the intention to stretch and relax outside in the winter sun. During this time, Kate who has been doing this a lot longer than my 2 weeks – reminded me whilst in warrior pose (those of you who know me well will appreciate the irony that follows):

The weird thing is that as you relax into this pose, the stronger you get and as you get stronger, the easier it is to relax.

AHEM! I had just been thinking about ISAIAH 30:15 which reads as follows:

In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength, but you would have none of it. This piece of scripture goes on to talk about the plans made by people rather than turning to God’s grace and compassion – and a blessing on those who wait for him.

I was in what felt like rhythm of busyness, of activity but actually as I reflect back now: It was a rut of activity where I kept going because I didn’t know how to stop: whether because I didn’t choose to, or didn’t feel like I could, or because of underlying anxiety, it doesn’t matter. It was not a rhythm – it was a rut. Rhythm has energy in it – A rut is about repetitive action. Rhythm has beats and steps which can change – A rut is set and can’t.

So, as this new season and decade begins, it’s time to find the new rhythm, to seek the new beat and to work out what needs to be activity out of a space of identity rather than out of habit and activity; to work out where the flexibility needs to be so that the strength and rest for this next season can develop. It’s about allowing rest and recovery to be significant too.

(Actually I am pretty excited about the possiblities of all this now 🙂 )