Today marks one year since our pregnancy loss journey began. Today, I should have a 5 month old baby in my arms.
This little blog of mine started out as a place to share flee market finds and DIY projects. Over the course of the year, it's become more to me than I could have ever imagined. From the bottom of my heart, thank you for reading.
Someone recently told me, "The most meaningful and significant growth is rooted in crisis." While it's sometimes difficult to see when you're knee-deep in the thick of it, I believe this statement to be true. A year ago today, I was in a very dark place. I'm still digging out of that darkness, but there's beauty in digging out a different person.
I decided to write a letter to myself, one year later, to reflect on my meaningful and significant growth. I encourage anyone who has experienced pregnancy loss, infertility or any of life's unfair crises, to try this exercise along with me.
Dear Hadleigh from April 8, 2015,
Today is really hard, I know. You feel lost and alone, but you won't for long. You are going to meet a huge community of women who have walked in your shoes and they will lift you back up in ways you have never been lifted before. They will empower you. You will develop deep friendships with people you have never even met in person, and you will become a better, more compassionate person because of them.
Over the course of the next year, you will learn more about yourself than you have in the past 30 years combined. You will learn to let go - you aren't in control of anything anyway. You will learn that grief is a journey that can't be mapped out. You will learn that you can take the pain, both physically and emotionally. Even when you think "I can't take any more," you can and you will. You are a warrior, momma.
You will become stronger in the mind, body and soul. You won't let fear stop you from doing anything you want to do. You certainly won't let the fear of judgment stop you, either. Somehow, your skin will become thicker and you will second guess yourself less.
You will begin to love your son from a deeper chamber of your heart. You'll become more thankful that you got at least one positive experience of pregnancy. You will truly appreciate this precious gift of life. Your marriage will be tested and its strength will be proven. The words "for better or for worse" will have new meaning, and you will find comfort in the bond that only a marriage provides. Your family relationships will strengthen too, and their love for you will become clearer and more outwardly displayed.
Your love for writing will grow and your ability to get your thoughts on paper will become easier. You will find your voice. You will find your purpose. You won't take for granted how special that gift really is. You will realize you care about politics. Actually, you care very deeply about politics. Believe it or not, you will earn the title "feminist" and "activist," and you will wear them both like badges of honor.
You won't only survive this, Hadleigh, but you will be changed for the better. Just keep swimming.
Sincerely,
Hadleigh from April 8, 2016
The day after our miscarriage, James and I planted a remembrance tree.
Today, one year later, our tree sprouted its first new buds of spring.
Another year of growth.