Another woman lost her child and I sobbed as if it was my own.
Iyanla Vanzant wrote of carrying a child in her vessel then zipping that child into a body bag.
And a hurt I thought I’d long healed, a memory of walking around for a week before my D&C knowing my child was dead inside of me sprang to my mind raw and vivid.
I pictured Iyanla sobbing in the grocery store. I remembered feeling numb during my next pregnancy when we realized very early on my daughter’s twin was lost. I was so grateful to finally have one child that I was afraid to tempt fate and mourn the other.
I never really grieved what could have been. But this past week I held both of my newborn nephews at the same time and I allowed myself to sink into “what if” bliss. Today, there were adorable twins at my daughter’s circle time…girls who strongly resembled my own precious one.
And I realized again, I never grieved that loss.
So when I read Iyanla’s words, I cried for both our losses.
Then I breathed free.
I write my story because right now there is someone reading this who is hurting. There is someone whose grief knows no words.
I write my story to help heal myself and, through testimony, help others heal.
Telling our truths, our stories are the best form of medicine.
So to the woman who is reading this right now, her heart so heavy she feels it will never lift. Unburden it, sift through it, hold it close, examine it.
Know it as you know yourself.
Then, began to release it.
Release it with the understanding that it will come back to you in quiet, unexpected ways.
When it does, welcome it anyway. Sit with it awhile.
Then open the door and release it again. And in that open door, into your open heart, peace and blessings will flow.
Sure as there is sunrise in the morning.