Do It Anyway

I have been thinking a lot this week about life with grief, and the life to come after. This line of thinking was prompted by an episode of Call the Midwife (my guilty pleasure tv show). In one of the episodes, the main character has lost someone. One of her patients, a Holocaust survivor, says to her, "You will feel better than this. Maybe not yet. But you will. You just keep living until you're alive again." Simple, but profound. Because when you lose what is most precious, a part of you dies too. I don't think I'll be the same me when this grief fades, but I do know that I will someday feel joy again.

I read a blog post today regarding fear and our response to it. The blogger's fear was linked to following through with a desire of hers. She went on to say that her theme for 2014 was "do it anyway." I really liked that, and I've decided to adopt it. See, I'm riddled with fear right now. Fear of venturing outside my house. Fear of returning to work in June. Of not being able to bring a living baby home to stay. The fear of all of the days without my daughter that stretch before me like a never-ending sea of sadness. I am realizing that the only way to the other side is straight through. I need to give myself time and space to grieve, but I know I can't stop there.

I don't agree with people who think that you need to deny your struggle in order to overcome it (fake it 'til you make it). I think that real courage is looking your fear in the face and forging onward in spite of it. So right here and now, I am making the decision to choose life and hope and to "do it anyway." Despite the fear, I am going to move forward. One step at a time. One anxiety attack at a time. One tear-filled night at a time. I am going to summon all of my courage and do it anyway. I'm going to live until I'm alive again.

I took a small step yesterday. I was wandering around Walmart and I saw maternity clothing on clearance. I bought four shirts for when I am full term next time, even though I don't know if I'll ever have that wonderful experience again. It made me feel anxious, but I rang them through and brought them home, where I promptly ripped off the tags so I wouldn't chicken out and return them.

As if to cement my thoughts on the subject, I received a package in the mail today from a friend in Tennessee. She had been sewing a gorgeous quilt for Haven while I was pregnant and finished it the day she found out that she had died. I opened the long-awaited package, and accompanying the quilt was a beautiful, handcrafted glass heart. I immediately knew that this would be my symbol of hope in the months to come. I hung it in the nursery so that I can peek in and see it whenever I need a reminder.

When I logged in today, I noticed that my page views had doubled since the last time I logged on. If you find yourself here, I want first to tell you that I am so sorry that you have felt the grief that comes with the loss of a child. But I hope that you find some comfort in reading about my journey. It's ugly at times, but I hope it all leads to a joyful end. Please feel free to comment or to contact me privately if you would like to.