I have two clients right now who are processing the loss of their child. Call it fate or coincidence, but any of you who know me will know, I call that God. He's peeling back the layers. I have felt sort of numb to Norah's death lately...almost like I couldn't squeeze out tears if I tried, which feels insensitive writing. I wondered if I was blocking my emotion, numbing them, or simply that the passage of time afforded me normalcy, joy, and my new sweetie to focus on.
It was the hearing another's story that brought up this wave, and I am thankful for their stories. I am thankful for their lives and I honor their journeys. I am thankful for my tenderness towards others, that I haven't built up a fortress around my hurts. Because, sometimes, in a world full of hurtful people, you build your walls and I'm sure I have mine, but there's something about someone's story.
There were two specific memories that got triggered, that feel important for me to speak through. The first was picking out Norah's urn at the hospital. I remember still feeling drugged up in the hospital bed, having Jason showing me different images that could hold my daughter's ashes. I knew which one I wanted, the pink one with the teddy bear, but it felt so surreal, so disconnected. You have to make decisions and do things you never imagined yourself doing and it feels like one big movie you're acting your way through.
The second memory was having to shut down Norah's gift registry at Target. I had some friends buy me things, some of which I returned and some of which I kept in hopes I could have another baby someday. I remember walking into Target with Jason and breaking down at the gift registry counter. That wasn't my plan, but that's what happened. It felt good for me to check things off the list after she died, like I was doing something tangible. But then the list stopped. The beautiful cards stopped coming through the mail, and I was left with this emptiness.
I was so scared when I was pregnant with Stella. I tried to pray my way through fear, but there were times I would just have to take medication at night to fall asleep, to have my mind stop racing. There is working through trauma and then there is walking out your healing. I had to walk that out, day by day, night by night, and moment by moment. In my first trimester we had a big scare, a subchorionic hematoma, where I absolutely lost it. I showed up to the ER, full of fear and tears, I was such a mess. I thought I lost Stella and I had this fear that gripped my heart like you wouldn't believe.
Even after having Stella, my blood pressure was really elevated and I had a nurse come to the house, who told me this would be an issue I would struggle with for the rest of my life. I felt like I was always sick, always in the hospital, always in the doctor, always being told something was wrong with me. It was so weird, because before pregnancy I felt so healthy.
Then the joy settled in of Stella being here and staying here. It took time for this reality to really settle into me, and once it did, it hasn't left. I am so grateful and joyful for her. She is my miracle and I do plan on having one more miracle, for any of you wondering! Not long after having Stella, I had a dream where I had this sick person following me around. In the dream, I told this sick person to go away. He then left. After that, I was literally delivered from this mindset of feeling like I was "always" sick. The truth was, I was healthy, but my body did something when I was pregnant. The truth was I had a healthy baby girl, and my body did what it needed to do to get to the finish line. The truth was, I have Stella, who is completely normal and healthy on the other side of all of this.
So, this is what others' stories has opened up for me and I am grateful for them. I do not have any collections physically, but my soul collects the stories of others, holding some very close to my heart, knowing they are brought into the tapestry of my life.
