Dealing with Loss

You know what it feels like.

The painful ache

Feeling adrift

Waves upon wave of sadness

Crashing and creeping


It never stops.

Even years later.


Lately I have been talking and reading more than usual about losing babies, about losing mothers, about losing the births yearned for…so much loss.

Maybe it’s all that. Maybe it’s that our cat, of only a few years, died suddenly and unexpectedly. I find myself pondering death as I work with my toddler to process our grief.

Maybe it’s also because I feel myself shifting. I feel my life changing. I still don’t know into what, but there is so much power and energy building. There is an intensity to life right now.

I don’t know what of all these (or none) that is going on, but I find myself feeling loss.

I keep coming back to the loss of my baby. I feel for it, the ache I felt on May 13, days before my birthday, my first birthday as a mother…

I reach, thinking, “It has been so long. Maybe there is no ache. Maybe there is no place there to go to.” My place of loss.

No. It is there. Every time.

When I find, though, that my place feels duller, less definite, I do not feel joy or relief. It does not make me happy that the edges of my pain are blurry.

Some part of me longs to feel fully that harsh reality again. To make it real again.

I do not want to forget.

My baby…..

Who are you my baby? Why did I not get to hold you?

Do you feel hurt and angry at me? Because I didn’t want you enough? Because I believe it’s true that we would have had a harder road if you had been born at that time, in that place, at that point in our journey?

Can I still love you? Can you feel my love?


This is where I am at when I let myself go there. When I allow myself to go all the way into that dark, hurtful place. The place I carry within.

Sometimes, like today, after I have had some space to myself, I find the little box there, asking: Are you ready?

Many, many times, I look at the box, thoughts and feelings stirring within. “No,” I say. “Not right now.”

Today, I said “Yes.”

I cried a little.

I began to moan.

I began to sob.

I curled into myself and weeped and heaved.

I birthed my sorrow. I invited and welcomed that pain and sought the sharpness of the edge, feeling all the way around it.

I held those dark thoughts. The ones I don’t let myself hold in my mind when they come, unbidden.

Then, eyes still raw, face still wet, the waves of my cries passed.

Slowly, I wiped my tears from my face. Closed the box. Gave it one last look.

And then I put the box away again, but now I feel it sitting there.

This is me, dealing with loss.


Are you dealing with loss? Please share your experience.

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