But… I nearly backed out of posting it, because it felt incredibly vulnerable. Still, I’ve made a promise to myself to keep shedding light on the most intimate parts of life - and mine - so that these experiences are no longer something we feel we have to carry alone.
Did you know? 1 in 4 recognized pregnancies don’t come to term.
And yet so many people feel alone in their grief. Ashamed, even.
There’s so much I could say about what we’re currently moving through, but shame isn’t one of the feelings.
It is intense. The emotional, physical, spiritual, hormonal complexity of it all. It is sad, and hard. Humbling. And also deep and beautiful. The way grief and love can exist in the same place. The way loss breaks the heart wide, wide open.
Through all of it, Ian and I have fallen even more deeply in love with each other. We are so crazy in love!! I want to speak about that sometime too. How you can grieve and love like a teenager at once.
We received an incredible amount of support, and so many personal stories in return. We cherished hearing each of them. Thank you.
What’s been most confronting to me, though, is realizing how loss can make even your closest people uncomfortable and avoidant. As though our pain was too hard to bear.
And yet, loss is inevitable in life.
We don’t have to be so spooked about it.
If this topic affects you personally, or if you simply want to feel less afraid of these conversations, know that I will be sharing more.
I'm creating a dedicated space for it on my
website. I’ll share our story through different layers and levels of detail, along with ways to support yourself and others while actively metabolizing an ambiguous loss like this. I’m also compiling the resources and direct hotlines that were great.
Writing this all out is part of my own healing process. Thank you for reading.
Together, we can honor losses as meaningful and inseparable parts of the process of bringing new life into the world.