Oh hiiiii blog. It’s been roughly three months since I’ve sat down to write anything longer than one of my super, sappy Instagram posts and what brings me back to this small platform is a gigantic pull from grief.
October is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month. Tragically 1 in 4 women experience a loss and even more tragically feel ashamed to talk about it.
I could write for hours and hours about the women who came forward to share their own stories of child loss with me over the past three years. Of the many hugs and hands held as we whispered our children’s names in one another’s ears. All of the connections I’ve made through social media with incredibly resilient women across our globe. When I met these women, I learned we’d somehow survive. That those of us left to navigate the world without those we love, must draw on the strength of others until we regain our own. I can remember searching “stillbirth” 4 days out of the hospital, seeking information, seeking hope. It’s only fair now to pass it along.
You will survive. It will not be easy. It is always worth it.
I hear you. That’s complete crap. I said crap instead of bullshit because my Mom doesn’t like when I swear. My tribe said it and I didn’t believe them but you know what they kept saying it until it was my mantra. You will survive. You won’t be the same but you will not be broken. And the one thing that you’ll need, and this is the hardest part, is time.
When I sat across from my counselor today, she reminded me of those first few months while I stumbled around in a painful fog. When the anguish of Piper’s death made it difficult to navigate the simplest of activities. I relish in these reminders. Nestle down in to them. They no longer scare me but serve a mighty purpose, to remind me that we can do hard things. WE are capable of not only surviving tragedy but leaning to use it to shape the rest of our lives.
When I want to view something as anxiety inducing or painful I have a true end of the spectrum to offer a comparison. That pain is freeing me to live a beautiful life, where I appreciate things in a very special way. This freedom does make the grass greener.
Taylors recent death was another shock to my world . My family now is coping with another one of our tribe gone too soon. I again refuse to let his life be in vain. I will not go into the hole again. I will use his example of love to well love even harder. T would be in there with me smoking a cig and telling me a horrible joke.
If someone you know is embarking on their grief journey, or hell has been on it for a century. I suggest you climb down in that hole with them. But bring a ladder and snacks. The name brand kind. It will be awhile. And they’ll need some help climbing out.
I am 1 in 4. Her name is Piper Kai. 6lbs, 4 ounces. Blonde, slender hands and feet with her cute nose and full lips. Perfect in every, single way. I wish for her with ever breath and I live my beautiful, happy life in honor of her.
Tomorrow, October 15th, is the wave of light. Where we light a candle to honor our babies. 7 pm, or close your eyes and whisper her name to the heavens.
Rest easy Piper Kai Bennett.