Mommy Odyssey

Exactly one year and one week ago today I hit rock bottom. It was two months after my second miscarriage, and Shmerson and I had just moved back to my hometown in the hopes of making things easier on both of us.

The hope was for naught. I couldn’t leave the house. I couldn’t stop crying. I would have debilitating panic attacks in the middle of the night. I was as lost as anyone could be. I was beyond hopeless. I was a mess.

That was when I decided (with the help of a couple of close friends) that it was time for me to get some help. I bit the bullet, and against everything I was ever taught, I went to a psychiatrist. I knew there was no way out of this black hole without medical intervention. I knew I was a panic attack away from becoming catatonic. From losing my mind.

Before the miscarriages I was ambitious. I wrote. I created. I chased after things. I was constantly in a race against who-knows-what. I was lost before I lost my babies. But losing them made me realize that I had been lost for a very long time.

A week after going to the psychiatrist, the meds started working. I found my voice again. In a moment of madness, or wisdom, or something – I started this blog.

I didn’t know about the ALI community. I didn’t know there was a world full of women out there who understood what I was going through. All I knew was that I needed to write my story. And write I did.

In a burst of emotion, I spent hours that first night writing post after post recounting the months leading up to my breakdown. About my babies, about the way I had lost myself. For once I didn’t care that I was writing to no one. I just needed to write.

A couple of days later I published the link to this blog on facebook with some stringent privacy settings, letting a select group of friends into the darkness that was my world at the time. They supported me. They were there for me. Things weren’t necessarily getting better, but I was learning that it was ok to reach out for help.

I started working through my feelings through this space. I started writing things here that I couldn’t say out loud. Secret fears, and grief, and sadness that had consumed me for years. By writing about them here – I found that a barrier had been broken. I could finally talk about them everywhere else.

Then, about two weeks after my first post, I received a comment from who was then a complete stranger. SLC found me. And with that one person reaching out, I started to find other women.

Through those women, I started to find myself again.

I never imagined that something as simple as a blog would be such a salvation. I never imagined that this space would bring me to women who I now consider some of my closest friends in the world. Women who are oceans away, but who I love like sisters.

Because they – you – understand. Because in my darkest moments, they – you – have been there for me beyond anything I thought was possible.

On the night I was hospitalized for my third miscarriage, I was scared out of my mind. Shmerson couldn’t be in the room with me, and I hated hospitals. I had never spent the night in one before. I was terrified. There was so much uncertainty, and so much fear, I can’t even explain it.

All I had during that sleepless night was my iPhone. And you. Your emails. Your comments. Your text messages. Your love.

My nightmare became bearable because of this space. Your love and support held me together when I couldn’t hold myself. That third loss was easier than the rest. Because for the first time I had an embracing warmth and understanding that I didn’t think was possible. But it was. Because of you. You helped me heal faster than I thought I could.

When I started this blog I admit, I was expecting to be holding a baby in my arms by now. I fantasized that one year in, things would be A-Okay. I was naive. In the year that has followed I have learned that getting to okay isn’t so easy. But having people along on your journey to okay makes it bearable. Sometimes even wonderful. Nourishing. Fulfilling.

I don’t have my baby yet. But I’m finally on my way. I’m finally getting closer to the hope that flickered and found its way into this space so many months ago. I am grateful and humbled for this.

In the last year you all have laughed with me and cried with me, celebrated and supported.

And some of you – you know who you are – have become my rocks. My friends. My sisters for life.

To all of you still in the trenches – thank you for celebrating with me. I know it’s not easy. I hope to be celebrating for you very soon. To all of you that have already achieved your dream, I hope you stick around.

To all of you – new readers and old, friends and strangers who have become family – thank you. I don’t know if I would be where I am today if it wasn’t for the love and support of every single one of you. I will be forever grateful, and plan on thanking you year after year for many years to come, as my odyssey and yours continue.

Tags: blog anniversary