Grandmother Mountain
I think it’s impossible to live in Calgary and not love the Rocky Mountains. I see them, blue in the distance, whenever I look west. I’ve camped and hiked and cycled in them all my life. There is awe in the size and strength of rocky peaks, wonder in glimpses of wildlife on the meadows, comfort in the gurgling of mountain streams….
God
One of the very hard things about my first miscarriage was that it felt like God had withdrawn himself from me. I wrote in my journal about one night when I cried, “but not over the baby. I cried for loneliness and confusion. I cried because I prayed for peace and it did not come. I cried because I could not feel confident that peace would ever come.”
Walk With Me
No one can walk the road for us. But they can walk beside us, and what a difference that makes!
This happened over thirty years ago, but it has stuck with me. One winter morning when I left my apartment to walk to the bus stop, I was surprised to see a line-up of idling cars on my normally quiet side street. Up at the intersection, I saw the reason for the unexpected traffic jam: there was a man trying to cross the street, and he was stuck. . . .
Grieving
“It’s as if my soul is being stretched to accept what before was impossible.”
Eight days after my D&E, I wrote in my journal: “I told my parents almost a week ago, ‘I always thought grieving meant crying. I didn’t realize it meant hurting.’ Even then, I didn’t realize it also meant anger, dimness and confusion, doubt, mistrust, depression.”
At first, the grief was overwhelming. I spent every moment on the verge of tears. . . .
“Unequivocally”
Our dog died of pneumonia in the winter of 2016. Let that one event stand in for all the happenings of a season that felt uniformly grey and burdensome. On April 20th, I wrote in my journal: “I am so utterly depleted!”
After pouring out my feelings in my journal that day, I called my husband at work. I told him I wanted to get away for a week - a writing retreat. We talked about what that would look like, and I finished off the conversation with, “Just a wild idea. Think about it for me.”
He responded immediately: “I’ve already thought about it. I think you should go.”
Two weeks later, the first week in May, I found myself alone . . . .
Losing Loila
I can’t overstate the loss I felt going into the hospital for a D&E. I was losing the possibility of delivering my baby naturally, the closure of having a body to grieve over. . . .
Between 2005 and 2008, I lost four tiny babies to miscarriage. In an effort to help others who may be experiencing similar losses, I want to share the story of that journey. If you click on the title above, and then follow the “Next in Miscarriage Journey” links at the bottom of each post, you can read through my story sequentially.