I feel like a hypocrite. I use this blog as an honest forum to share my life experiences. Although life is often hard, I continuously frame it in a positive light, no matter the situation. That is an admirable way to look at life and I have tried very hard most of my years to look at it that way. But doing that is harder than I have let on. I have lied to you all. I am human and sadness has been a present cloak in my wardrobe for the last couple months.

I saw some of my extended family this past weekend. A cousin of mine who I am close to asked me how I was doing. I told her I was fine, doing well, and I smiled. She then asked again, no, how are you doing? I knew what she meant. Not many people ask that anymore. The first few weeks after my miscarriage, the questions rolled in like breaths of air. Everyone I spoke with asked, “how are you doing?” Whether they wanted to know or whether they were just being nice, my answer was always I was okay.

She also asked me if I had been writing much. She and I both write and she expressed to me how she hadn’t been keeping up with it. I told her I hadn’t written many things worth reading lately, including my blog. I told her I felt blocked. I felt like I had nothing to say that people would want to read. She too admitted she hadn’t kept up with her blog and she expressed she didn’t know what to write either. This year marks three years since her father passed away, so she is all too familiar with loss. Her situation has more gravity than mine, but I felt comfort in expressing how hard it’s been. I felt comfort that we could speak freely to each other about how difficult growing up can be and how sad things happen to all of us when we we’re not ready for them. We hadn’t seen each other in over a year because she lives in London. It was such a comfort that even after a long period of time, we go back to where we left off and we can lean on one another.

She asked if I have thought about writing more about my experience and I said I didn’t think people wanted to read it anymore. She expressed how it’s hard to get a major loss out of your mind and we both agreed how it can be consuming. She encouraged me though and told me that she appreciated the blog post I wrote about my experience. Reflecting now, I regretfully did not give her the same encouragement. I know she’s reading now, so this goes out to you. Keep writing. Keep writing about how you feel and your experience with loss or happiness or whatever it is you have in your heart. We’ve got to keep sharing our stories.

So here I am again. Writing about the experience that has changed my life forever. I have reread the post I wrote in February a few times. There was a lot about hope and having a positive perspective. To quote myself, “The more time that passes the more I become comfortable with the fact that it’s okay that it’s taking me time to process all of this.”

While I still do believe in what I wrote, that was written only a few weeks after it happened. When you are fresh from a loss, you feel like you’ll be okay because it hasn’t fully set in yet and because that’s all anyone tells you. “It’ll be okay. Don’t worry.” But what else are they supposed to say?

I am four months out from that experience now and it’s not as easy as I claimed it would be. I’ve had lots of days where I am fine. I go through the day with a positive attitude and I feel like myself. Then I have random days where I think about it a lot. I think about the disappointment in myself. I think about how my own body fooled me. I think about how far along I’d be in the pregnancy if I was still pregnant. I think about how everyone is moving on with life and I feel stuck. I’ve cried a lot in the last few months. It comes on in waves and I break down and let the waves wash over me. I cry when I’m alone, which isn’t often. But when I am alone I am faced with my thoughts and I get sad. I get mad at myself for messing up my plan. I get mad at myself because I have been so blinded and so accustomed to things going my way. Who am I to have a perfect life? Did I expect nothing to ever go wrong? I get mad at myself for my ignorance.

This journey of grief has been hard but also enlightening. I have learned that I need to work on how I handle my grief. I have learned how to lean on others even though I think it’s silly for me to or I feel like I am wasting their time. I have learned to communicate better with my husband. I shouldn’t get mad at him or my loved ones because they don’t understand fully. I should be patient and explain myself to allow them to comfort me. I have my husband by my side forever, he already agreed to that. I need to allow myself to be open to him and stop these thoughts that I’ll bring him down if I talk about sad stuff. I am not weak if I feel sad. I am human.

When struggling with a loss, it’s important to continue to remind yourself you can be sad, that others will be there for you if you go to them. You can’t expect people to read your mind and know what you’re feeling. That is something that I naively expected. In my first post, I urged how important it is to talk about things that aren’t discussed much, such as miscarriages. And here I am now telling you how I became afraid to talk about it. People don’t know how you are feeling or what you are struggling with unless you tell them. Thank you to my cousin for the kick in the pants that I needed to start getting things out again. A simple conversation with someone who cares can give you the boost you need.

The more I write about this, the better I feel. The more I am able to comprehend why it happened. I have told myself that others don’t understand what I’m going through, but I think for a while there I didn’t fully understand.