Today on the blog, a very courageous woman shares her deepest sadness.
We thank Alli from Alli & Genine for allowing us to share her story with the sorella-hood and also thank her for her being so brave in this mostly taboo subject of miscarriage.
We hope her experience provides comfort to those women in the sorella-hood community who have suffered a miscarriage and also provide a little insight for those of you who know a beautiful woman who has endured a similar loss.
We send positive energy to Alli, and to you all with the hope that by sharing her heart-felt words with you today, strength is found in moving forward, and as Alli herself expressed –
“I want other women out there to feel less alone in their journey”
…and that is what the sorella-hood (‘sister-hood’) is all about.
~ alisha & anna
Where to from here? Alli ponders what was not meant to be….
Today I feel numb. Confused. Broken. Exhausted. Empty. Lost. And deeply heartbroken. Not sure what I should do next. Part of me wants to stay in bed and feel sorry for myself. To sulk, mope, cry, to attempt to sleep the day away. How I wish I could fast forward these long, sad days.
But part of me feels like I need to get on with things. To find a distraction, focus on my work, use my business to do good, be better, give back more. Because something good has to come out of this, out of losing a baby. It has to make me a better person, a more loving mother, a kinder, more understanding human being.
Yesterday was a dark day. A sad day. A terrifying day. Yesterday I had a D&C (click here to read more about my miscarriage journey due to a blighted ovum). Yesterday I said goodbye to the baby who wasn’t to be, our Little Sunshine. Two long, painful, terrifying weeks after ‘that ultrasound’, and two long, painful, terrifying days after my body decided to miscarry naturally (ouch!) we checked into the hospital to have the procedure. Frankly, I couldn’t wait for it to just happen. I wanted to move on.
So here I am. Day one. Feeling lost. Not sure what to do next. Overwhelmed by emotions. Guilt, anger, frustration, fear, sadness, confusion, exhaustion. Where to from here?
The one thing I’m sure about is that I need time with my family, my boys. I need to laugh with my darling son. I need to talk to my husband – really talk. I need to play and smile and remember what it’s like to feel happy. I am blessed to have them both. So we have decided to go away for a few days. I need to get my happy back.
This prolific loss has to mean more. Our Little Sunshine is gone, and I am trying hard to be grateful for what our tiny baby left us with. Here goes.
Firstly, he or she gave us something positive and happy to focus on when Dad was at death’s door, possibly dying from complications associated with his nasty cancer. Our new pregnancy gave us all hope, because even in our darkest hours as we sat by Dad’s bedside waiting for the worst, there was a little ray of sunshine guiding us through. Maybe that was our baby’s purpose? Maybe he or she was sent to us just to get us through these hideous days and weeks? I think so.
Secondly, it has given me perspective. I have watched so many women I love go through this, lose babies, suffer multiple miscarriages. From the outside looking in I could see the heartbreak, the devastation. I tried to be there. And while my heart was in the right place, I now know I didn’t get it. I couldn’t. Now I do.
Having a miscarriage and going through all those negative emotions I finally get it. I finally understand the guilt, the extreme sadness, the loss, the loneliness. I understand why women go into themselves, why they don’t want to talk about it. I went to that place and it was supremely lonely. Leaving it was near impossible, but I knew I had to. And now I know why no one talks about miscarriage. But you know what? I also know why we should! We need our friends, our family – and we should talk about it, without shame, without fear.
Writing and sharing that first post was bloody tough. I didn’t want people to pity me, but I hoped that telling my story might help other women in some small way. I want others to feel less alone in their pain. I want to educate those who haven’t been through this hell (and I hope never will) so they can better support the women in their lives who have. I want to hug every lovely lady who has suffered a miscarriage, and never let go. But I can’t. All I can do is write, to send hugs through my words. I chose to use the voice I have through Alli & Genine to try to make a difference. Our Little Sunshine gave me the strength to share.
I have been so overwhelmed by the support, the kindness, the gratitude, the understanding and the love shown by so many women. Many I’ve never met, but all now hold a special place in my heart. If my experience has helped just one woman, then our loss has made a difference, and that will help me to smile again. I am genuinely grateful to each and every one of you – I read every message of support, through tears, and I thank you for sharing your stories too.
Finally, going through this hell has made me realise what’s truly important – my family. My husband is beyond amazing. My rock. My mums and dads, sister and brother, aunts and uncles, cousins and beautiful friends – you all got me through this. The phone calls, text messages, hugs, tears, flowers, offers of help … it made a difference.
I have come through this a different person. I have changed, right down to my core. I will work less and love more. I will be extra grateful for what I have. I will be a better mum, wife, daughter, sister and friend. I will be more compassionate and I will devote more time to supporting other women just like me – women struggling with issues. And I will do all of this in honour of our Little Sunshine.
Losing that little baby has left a scar on my heart forever, and I won’t ever get over it. Every day I will grieve, but I am sure it will get easier. I am more focused than ever on completing our family, on having that second baby. I’m terrified, but it will happen.
Today I woke up and everything was different, yet still the same. Life goes on. But I think perhaps I might just mope a little longer. Take today off. Cry. Spend time with my husband. Hug my son. Watch trashy TV. Book that little holiday away. Deal with my pain. I’m just not quite ready to get on with things yet. Writing this blog has left me exhausted enough. I don’t think I’m ready to face the real world. One day at a time right?
Thank you to my Little Sunshine for showing me the light. For making me a better person. For giving me hope. For helping me to help others. Mummy loves and misses you.
With love and thanks to you all. Alli x
Thanks so much again to Alli for sharing her story with us today.