Monday, January 14, 2013

Walking With You: the pit hurts

Today I'm linking up again with lovely Kelly at Sufficient Grace Ministries for Walking With You. 

This week’s WWY topic ~ Clinging in the Pit
Whether or not you are new to loss, talk a bit about early grief. What was it like, clinging for hope in the pits of despair? What did you cling to for hope? How did you survive the early days? What helped? What do you wish you could share with someone new to this walk, clinging in the pit? If you’re in the pit, currently, share your struggles. What can others do to encourage you?

I'm not in the pit today. Today. But I know it well.

After my first miscarriage, I didn't fully grieve. As with everything else about that time, I didn't know how. I was confused. My heart was telling me it's okay to dwell in that hurt for a bit, but everything around me pointed to moving past it.

After my second miscarriage, I decided to grieve well. [Can one be an overacheiver griever? I sure tried to find out.] I knew I had the grief work to do. That's when I found you lovely ladies. When I fought for my feelings and took care of myself, so much came pouring out. I went deeper into the pit than I could have anticipated.

I wrote about the hurt here. And here. Reading those words heavy with raw grief makes my heart ache a bit now.

A hole that I had no idea how to escape. I couldn't focus long enough to even ask if I could climb out. Or if there was a ladder. Or someone to help me. And it was dark. That's how I described my pit of depression. Reading those words now brings me back. Not in the way that I feel it with the same intensity, but in the way when you place yourself back in a memory.

There is no such thing as 'just' grief. It's not 'just' as in merely, and it's definitely not 'just' as in fair.

There can be a fine, fine line between grief and depression. I have been squarely on the depression side of the fence. I believe that the medical treatment I sought - both in therapy and with medications - was absolutely the right thing. For me. And taking control of my health then benefited me greatly when the post-partum depression set in after Anders was born. And in the periods where the anxiety has reared its ugly head in the months since.

***Please, if ever you find yourself on this line, ask for help. Tell someone. You can feel better. It's not easy, but so, so worth it. You didn't do anything wrong. And you're not alone.***

This community has been one of the most significant sources of support in my grief journey. When I wanted so desperately to be normal [whatever that is], you lovely ladies gave me hope. When you said things would get better, I believed you. When you said that you understood, I believed you. You gave me confidence to continue telling my story, and you love my babies with me. You get it.

I really don't like the adage that time heals all wounds. Time has made the grief less raw most days, absolutely. But my heart will always have two holes for the babies I don't hold here. Only in heaven will my heart be healed.

Three years ago I don't think I could say that I accept that a part of me will always hurt. I hurt too much then to see through it. But I can say that today. I don't like it. At all. But my perspective continues to evolve. That hurt is love that I feel so intensely.

Grief is hard work. Hope is hard work. I am a work in progress.

12 kind words:

  1. There is no such thing as 'just' grief. It's not 'just' as in merely, and it's definitely not 'just' as in fair.

    I LOVE that line. How profound and true.

    Thank you for sharing. This is one of the posts that most resonated with me. Again, thank you for taking the time to share with us.

  2. Thank you so much for sharing!

    I love 'Grief is hard work. Hope is hard work. I am a work in progress.' It is so true and walking with you is amazing <3

  3. Thank you, Karin. I love this community of moms and it blesses my heart to know you have found hope here among them in the darkest pits. I know what you mean. There's something about hearing hope from someone that gets it...that makes us believe it's ok to hope.

    It is good look back and see the healing in our hurting hearts. Love and continued prayers...

  4. I too, love being a part of something so beautiful, so significant.

    I like how you wrote, "Can one be an overachiever griever?" I know that I took it all in... every piece of grief that I held in my heart, every piece that entered my days, weeks and years.

    "That hurt is love that I feel so intensely.".... beautiful!

  5. So much truth here. Grief is hard work, and healing a process that I don't think will be complete until we embrace our babies in heaven. And that grief isn't "just." ((hugs))

  6. Thank you for sharing <3
    You're so right when you say that grief and hope are hard work. We'll all spend the rest of our lives working through this pain.

  7. I have nominated you for the Liebster Award!

  8. So true! Time doesn't heal our wounds, we only learn how to better live with our grief. We won't fully be able to deal with it until we reach Heaven & finally see our children again!

  9. Overachiever griever. Love it. I'm so that person at times. Thank you for sharing this part of your story and your heart!

  10. I am so thnkful for this community too. Had it not been for you and so many other wonderful ladies I would have been alone. No one else understood or reached out to me with support and comfort.

  11. "I am a work in progress." Oh, how true that is for me. Aren't we all? Thank you for sharing!

  12. I, too, sought out counseling after losing my son. I was having terrible anger issues because of my lack of grieving. Having this community actually helped me out of that pit much more so than the counseling I got. My therapist never even talked about my son and when I tried to bring him up she pushed it to the side and said we would get to him eventually. He was the reason I was there! She actually wound up showing all the areas in my life that needed work, stressed me out about things that hadn't even occurred to me before and I only saw her three times before stopping our meetings. Without this community I would hate to think of where I would be.