February 11, 2016

What Should Have Been Today

I went for my first two mile run in many, many, many weeks today. 

I had planned to start the new year aiming to run a local half marathon and another one in Myrtle Beach soon after.

Micheal was starting a new job and we would be able to pay off some things and get back to where we wanted to be financially. 

Life as we planned was moving forward blissfully and positive. 

It got even more wonderful as we learned that finally after a year of not preventing having a baby we were expecting. 

Actually that is not completely true.

It took a week for the shock to set in. 

We told our family and some friends, but were waiting to tell it to the world until today. 

Well I was. 

Micheal got through the shock faster and embraced the excitement and announced it during a church service. 

Today was the day we would have seen our little blessing for the first time. 

The scribbled out appointment across the page of my calendar for today just sucks as a reminder. 

As Micheal was traveling for his new job the car broke down. 

This was as I was learning that I was indeed having a miscarriage. 

I still cannot put words into what a horrible week that was. 

Knowing my body was saying goodbye to someone I already loved. 

Most days I really am okay. 

I am able to lovingly joke with Micheal that "Well, I almost had your baby."

I don't question God or lose faith.

But sometimes, like what should have been a celebratory day filled with our ultrasound picture, just carry some pain. 

Some numbness.

A friend who lost her husband in a tragic accident a few years ago posted this quote last night. 

"Grief is brutally painful. Grief does not only occur when someone dies. When relationships fall apart, you grieve. When opportunities are shattered, you grieve. When dreams die, you grieve. When illnesses wreck you, you grieve. Some things in life cannot be fixed. They can only be carried."

So I ran today after finally feeling like my body is ready. 

Trying to get back into a routine. 

The first mile I struggled to find my stride and breathing. 

The second mile I just cried and cried and cried.

I am still processing the pendulum swing of utter joyful disbelief to utter sadness. 

Sadness doesn't correctly describe the emotion really. 

There are no words. 

I have carried this secret around with me for weeks. 

But running today it all came out. 

And I felt I wanted to tell the world. 

Because that was my original plan. 

Most of the time we share the happy moments in our life and shy away from the pain. 

Pain often scares people. 

They don't know what to say or do.

They don't know how to respond. 

And that's okay. 

There are no right words or correct responses. 

I am not sharing this for sympathy, but with hope that someone feels less alone.

And that we can journey together as we learn to carry that which we cannot fix.