Adaptation

I know I’m finding peace. I know this because I’m doing things I couldn’t have fathomed doing three weeks ago. Yesterday I went to the zoo. The Zoo. Swarming with children, babies, and pregnant women. Instead of having to look away from them, I found joy in their smiles. I found happiness in their excitement. I was able to look at pregnant women and pray that their babies would make it into this world, and not meet the devastating fate that we had. I was able to heal a little in this environment.

It has been a process to get here. Right after we lost Delilah, it was emotionally painful to see pregnant women and babies. Why were their babies healthy and ours was not? What had we done wrong? I realize that these are ridiculous thoughts, but I’ve learned that they are normal reactions when you experience pregnancy loss. I was bitter and jealous, two feelings that I despise. So I am very proud to be making this progress.

Last night I had a dream and it was very reflective of my shift. I would like to share it in this space.

It was a stormy night. I was travelling with a female companion whose face I never saw, but she was familiar. We were both riding on one bicycle. I was pedaling and she was riding on the back of my seat. I was pedaling so hard through the storm, trying to move us down the road. But the harder I tried to pedal, the slower the wheels went around. It felt as if my legs were moving through thick mud. It was exhausting and I had the overwhelming fear that I could not carry both of us much longer. It made me feel ashamed and guilty. Just as I was about to give up, our surroundings shifted. Now we were at the top of a snowy mountain, standing in front of a steep slope. Other people whizzed past us, skiing down the slope. The slope was extremely steep and I was terrified to ski down it. I told my female companion “My legs won’t hold me, I’m not strong enough, I’m scared!”

I was alone in my fear and self-doubt. She went down the slope without me. She left me on the top of the mountain.

Feeling sure that my legs weren’t strong enough to hold me up, I lay down on my back and proceeded to slide down the mountain. It was a long, cold ride down, but an adrenaline rush. When I reached the bottom I looked behind me and saw the huge mountain in all of its glory. I couldn’t believe I made it to the bottom! I looked around for her, but was she gone.

I woke up.

Dreams like this are special to me, because I know that they carry deep meaning. Initially I thought that the girl was Delilah. I was trying to carry both of us through the turbulent journey, but it became too heavy, too exhausting. As hard as I tried to pedal, it just didn’t get us anywhere. When we were on the mountaintop I was too terrified to go down, so she proceeded without me. She continued alone, towards her own journey.

Upon further analysis, I had another interpretation of this dream.

This experience has changed me so much. I am not the same person that I was before my pregnancy. It has opened up my heart to be more compassionate and kind. I am so much more aware and considerate of other people’s battles. We are all someone else’s children, and that makes us ALL precious in some way. The female companion in my dream may have been a version of myself that I got tired of carrying. Tired of carrying the ugly, the mean, the insensitive, the critical, the grief, and the past. I was ready to let her go so I could move on and grow into a better version of myself

Laying down and sliding down the mountain was me adapting to a terrifying situation. I didn’t give up. I just changed my plan.

 

Healing Kit

Since Delilah’s departure, grief has taken her place as my constant companion. I am becoming very familiar with grief, and it’s fickleness. Grief is fluid and ever changing. It is never concrete. It can have you feeling despair one moment and peace the next. It is a constant flowing river that I am riding, until I feel strong enough to put my two feet back on the ground again. To be honest, I have no idea when that might be, and that’s okay. I am grateful that I have the time in my life to really dive into the healing process and go wherever the river takes me. To my surprise, the gaping wound that left me broken a few weeks ago is beginning to mend itself back together.

The most terrifying thing about life is loss. We will all experience the loss of a loved one. When we do, we are given a very important choice. We can put the pieces back together and live life to the fullest, or we can let life slip away from us. I think it’s important to always remember that our loved one wants us to be happy, and continue on our Earth journey.

I miss Delilah desperately, every day. I miss being pregnant with her. It was the happiest and most meaningful time of my life so far. But God had a plan and there was no way to alter it. She has gone, and I’ve been given that choice. I want my life. I miss being happy. So I’ve begun to laugh a bit more and not feel guilty. She wants that for me.

This ordeal left me stripped of all emotions. Literally. I remember feeling like I’d never care about anything else again. I’m beginning to recognize distinct things in my life that are huge components of my healing process. I like to think of these components as a “Healing Kit” for grief. Everyone’s healing kit will be different. But these are the components of mine at the moment:

Time

Support

Relationships

Therapy

Exercise

Nutrition

Music

Writing

Spirituality

Reading

Animals

Nature

Laughter

Meditation

I try to focus on a couple of these things every day, and they have the power to save me in a weak moment. Focusing on my healing instead of my sorrow, is definitely helping to soothe the pain of heartbreak, and to move me forward with a happy mind and peaceful heart.