[If you’re just joining me…]
The past 10 days have been something out of a horror movie.
I’m still in it. Physically, spiritually, mentally, emotionally.
Thank God that I’m 3 sleeps away from going on vacation to my hometown of Smithers. Most of my friend & family ties are in that area, and I have not seen them in over a year.
So, before I’m able to churn out a Part 5 that actually regales you with my honest experience in miscarrying a child, I’m going to disappear for a week. Maybe two. I need to go where nothing is required of me except to be, and be held, and fed and drank and loved.
If I haven’t replied to any of your previous comments yet, I am sorry. I read them. I feel them. I love them. I’m just too drained to think of anything to say other than Thank You right now.
I do want to tell you, though, that I just finished spending the last 3 short days with my best friend Laurie. She flew approximately 1,350 miles just to be with me and my husband as we grieved.
We ate poutine and fro-yo and stayed up until 4am and made a gloriously sketchy vlog (coming soon!) and had a very special photo shoot down by the beach.
The idea came to me almost in a dream: to take a balloon down to the Pier, somehow attach 2 love notes from myself and Steven, and then send it up to our Baby In The Sky as a memorial of sorts.
Steve worried that this was not environmentally friendly. I didn’t care.
So, we went to a really dodgy retail store, and found the perfect balloon. THE MOST BEAUTIFULLY PERFECT BALLOON.
The rest…was pure, bittersweet magic.
It was a good day.
But, since grief is a fickle bitch, we are in a low valley once again. We’ll retreat. We’ll climb out. And we will be ourselves again.
Thank you for staying with us.