I have't been able to sit and write for awhile.
My lack of writing partially comes from the intensity of going to our first Grief Share group. The other part comes from feeling... hmm, I don't even know how to say it. I'm not overwhelmed. I'm not detached. But I can feel the walls up around my emotions, and I can feel the walls starting to crack.
When I think of Abby today I can literally feel my body and mind starting to weaken a bit. But not in a bad way. Ahh, I just can't seem to find the right words.
I guess I'll stop trying.
I know I'm having trouble writing mostly because my mind is still processing an experience that has left me a little bit bitter, hurt and confused. But I know I can't "talk" through it on here. And I'm the type of person that has to process something and really try to work through it or I get mentally stuck. (Which is one of the main reasons I journal/blog).
I will say, after all the anxiety leading up to the first Grief Share meeting, that was then cancelled, I'm glad we followed through and went. My guiding principle is that it never hurts to give something a try, especially something with a helpful/reflective/learning/supportive platform. So we're going to participate in the Grief Share group for the full 13 weeks. We might learn something, we might not. But we're not going to be in a worse place.
I can so easily talk about Abby with just about anyone at this point. And I love to talk about her. I've tried to hold back in a lot of situations mostly because I know it's an uncomfortable topic for people. But I am getting better at just being brave and embracing the moments when it's normal to mention her.
I was shocked when it was my turn to introduce myself to the group and I hit a brick wall of emotion. I could barely say my name and who I was grieving through the tears and the catch-your-breath thing that comes with crying. Almost every time I looked at Trever his eyes were red and watery also. There are a lot of people around us who have experienced loss, but there is something about being in a room with people who are actively trying to learn about their grief that made it okay to be so vulnerable.
Last week I wouldn't say that we learned anything. But we gained affirmations about the road we are taking. We were reassured that this process will take time, longer than most people (even myself) will anticipate. We feel "normal" in what we've gone through (grief wise) so far. And we were reminded that the emotions will continue to come in waves for the rest of our lives. Grief doesn't go away, the love that we had for our daughter, and the hopes that we held when we found out we were pregnant will have an impact on us for the rest of our lives. There is good in that, there is comfort. I'm thankful that my sadness at the loss of Abigail is always accompanied by thankfulness for having the chance to grow, nurture and love another child.
"If there were no love, there'd be no grief." Zig Ziglar