Gallery-Paint · Gallery-Written · Kiddos · Life · Marriage · Uncategorized

#1in4 Couples experience pregnancy or infant loss.

I have read so many heartbreaking and touching stories this October, and I felt like I had to commend everyone for their bravery. It is not easy to allow yourself to be so vulnerable about such a personal thing. But I believe in my heart that our stories connect us. In times of hardship our stories ensure that we are not alone. And as thankful as I am that these topics are becoming less taboo, I have noticed a recurring theme in these stories and the comments that follow, and I thought I’d take this opportunity to ask a teeny favour of everyone. Could we just stop grading how bad each other have it? One person opens up and it creates a dialogue. Which is beautiful. But for some reason when we speak of our loss, especially pregnancy loss, we feel the need to grade each loss. “Oh Becky, I’m so sorry for your loss. I had a miscarriage last fall, but it wasn’t as bad. I was only a few weeks.”

It wasn’t as bad? Is it really less of a loss? Or just loss? Why do we do that to ourselves?

My husband and I have been trying to grow our family for the past 12 years. In that time we have had one successful pregnancy. I have always said I am very fortunate, because technically I have never had a pregnancy loss. Sometimes I even feel silly for getting upset about our struggles because it seems that some couples have it worse. Which frankly is just nuts. We try to grade how bad we have it in comparison to someone else. And from there we grade to what degree we’re allowed to be sad? It’s ridiculous. I do it too. I say well I have a step child and I birthed one kid, and I didn’t end up needing IVF yet, or I’ve only had a blighted ovum, that’s not a real miscarriage. But the fact is just because someone has it worse doesn’t mean your situation is not hard. Hard is hard. Loss is loss. Whether you have just begun trying to start a family but you’re worrying more and more as each month passes, or you’re a veteran to the infertility game. It’s ok to feel like it’s unfair-because it is. And whether you had a blighted ovum or a miscarriage the truth is you had joy and hope for a new life the second you saw that positive pregnancy test, and to lose that is devastating. So never feel like you don’t have a right to your feelings. As was once said to me; “you were a mom from the first time you cried about getting your period.”

It’s true.

It hurts when your heart is ready, but your arms remain empty. It’s painful, we don’t need to figure out if it’s more or less painful than what someone else is enduring —it’s just painful. That’s all.

Gallery-Paint · Gallery-Written · Life · Uncategorized

Words & Art – J.Thoresen

Feel

I’ve always had a heaviness,

Somewhere deep inside.

An inherent sadness,

I always felt that I should hide.

So I’d swallow my emotions,

Even when they made me choke.

Or just go through the motions,

Maybe tell another joke.

But it never really worked,

It just filled me up with doubt.

Then one day I decided,

It was time to let it out.

It lingers round like smoke,

But I no longer think it’s bad.

I’ve realized I’m ok,

And perfectly happy being sad.

Gallery-Paint · Gallery-Written

Ornament or Instrument- A Poem.


Am I just an ornament?

To be gazed upon and graded.

All of my imperfections,

Being pointed out and berated.

Will I ever be good enough?

Will you still think I’m grand?

If I lose my lustre,

Just taking up space upon your hand

I am more than just an ornament.

Look beyond what you can see.

I’m more like an instrument,

With a unique melody.

And while admiring adornments

Isn’t necessarily wrong.

If you only judge my cover,

You may never hear my song.

J.Thor