I've learned so much in the last few years. I've learned to lean on my village, I've learned that grief is messy and ugly and natural, I've learned that friends aren't always friends, I've learned that I am stronger than I ever imagined. I've experienced a desperate search for answers that don't exist and I've experienced arms so empty they ache. Most importantly, I've learned to deal with my own emotions.
I've never been a person that is comfortable with "feelings." Especially the negative ones. Growing up my dad always acted like my highs were too high and my lows were too low so I learned to hold all emotion in and mask how I was feeling. I never had a bad day. I was fine. I was always fine. Then Hannah died and nothing was fine. I was falling apart and I couldn't deal with that. Not at all. So I began my quest for the answers that I was sure would bring closure.
And quite the quest it was. I blew through therapist after therapist. I spoke with ministers (PS: My God doesn't kill babies so telling me this was His plan was less than helpful). I looked to Buddhism (What do you mean nothing is permanent? Not helpful Mr. Monk). I even spoke with a Medium (actually pretty comforting). Ironically what was the most helpful came from the person I liked the least. A therapist that I had zero connection with. I couldn't stand my time with her. But something she said did stick with me. She told me sometimes people just aren't ready to heal. That we can't rush the process. We have to be in the right space emotionally. Your head and your heart have to be ready and she didn't think I was there yet.
Pfffft, I was ready. I was so ready. I walked out of her office needing to be ready. I needed to fix it, I needed to fix it now! I had to heal so I could get pregnant again so we could get past this. I needed to move on.
So much was wrong with this thought process. A) You don't move on from the death of your child. Moving on is not a thing in this situation. You learn to pull yourself together. You learn to move forward. But you never move on. B) You can't fix this type of situation. You slowly learn to live with it and carry it forward, but you never "fix" it.
So months after that fateful and uncomfortable session in the therapists office (and a year after saying goodbye to Hannah) it dawned on me that she was right. I wasn't ready to heal. I was ready to cry, I was ready to grieve. But I was not ready to heal. And so I changed my course of action and I learned to just sit with my emotion. I learned how to exist with my grief, without trying to change it or alter it or fix it. I learned to just be.
It was not something that I was comfortable with at all. It was almost an impossible lesson but it's a lesson I am grateful to have learned. Now when emotional issues pop up, I am able to process and react more calmly. But most importantly it's helped me hold Hannah close. She is not a part of my heart to avoid any longer. She is a part of my heart that I hold dear, that I love and cherish and grieve and celebrate. And this is how I learned to put one foot in front of the other and continue to live.
