Wednesday, 4 April 2012

In All Honesty

I received an email yesterday from a friend of mine in High School, who, besides commenting on how old we are getting, mentioned that she appreciated how honest I am in my blog.  And this got me thinking . . .

Have you guys reached the same level of trepidation yet that Mr. Level-Headed reaches every time he hears me utter those words?

Anyhoo, I was grateful that she recognised my efforts at honesty because I fear that blogs, particularly "mommy" blogs, can very easily become dishonest, or better yet, misleading when post and after post they simply focus on the perfect five minutes of their day.  And in all honesty, that's all it amounts to, five brief magical minutes, while the other thirteen hours and fifty-five minutes are spent working on the mundane tasks of raising kids and keeping house. Okay, so this is a bit of an exaggeration and really it isn't that bleak, but you know what I am getting at.

As I was reading through my blog the other day, my heart sank when I saw the four month gap between my posts.  I am sure some of you pictured me being so enraptured with teaching my two, angelic boys, with keeping my home in pristine order, and enjoying every waking moment soaking in the grandeur of the world that surrounds me, that I had no time to write.  That I simply had forgotten you. Well, this is not true.  This is where my blog has misled you.  Although I was busy teaching my boys, cleaning my house, and making life run smoothly here at Shenanigans Inc, what you don't know is how I did each of these things swaddled within the heavy cloak of mourning.  How I struggled each morning to put a smile on my face, to take charge of the daily challenges that greeted me, and to maintain the hope I needed to go on.  

In the wee hours of an early December morning, I had a miscarriage.  The baby, Mr. Level-Headed and I had prayed so hard for and had worked so hard to conceive, quietly and unceremoniously slipped into non-existence.  Words cannot express the pain and the anguish we suffered that morning, and many mornings afterwards.  

So, why am I telling you this after so many months?  Well, to be honest, I don't know.  I had never intended to share this part of my story, but over the past few weeks I felt like I was somehow letting you down.  Like,  I was being dishonest and misleading you to think that when you live a ferry crossing away from civilisation you are somehow immune to the searing pain of disappointment, loss, and hardship.

I am also telling you this because I don't want my little Sesame, the loving nickname Mr. Level-Headed and I used to refer to our baby in reference to the size he/she was when we found out about our pregnancy, to fade into obscurity.  I remember what a comfort it was to lay on the ultra-sound table the morning after my miscarriage and say "this was my fourth pregnancy".  Even though this pregnancy did not produce the baby we had so desired, this pregnancy existed and for a brief couple of weeks, I was the mother of four children.

As difficult as this miscarriage was and as much as I NEVER want to experience anything like it ever again, I  can honestly say I am grateful it happened to me.  Sounds crazy, right?  But, it is true.  Over the course of those cold, dark, winter months, I lost my baby, wrapped myself in a figurative cocoon, which enabled the transformative power of mourning to heal me, and emerged a new woman.  A stronger woman.  A woman who had tasted both the sweet and the sorrowful in life and decided to carry onward.  I survived something I never thought possible.  I demonstrated to myself that I am strong and that I can do hard things, and for this, I am eternally grateful. 

Through my blog, I want to help people maintain hope, to recognise the blessings in really hard situations, and to know that they are not alone in their struggles or their heartaches.  I want to scream out that life is hard for everyone, but it can also be very precious!  I want to sift through the difficult and reveal the tiny glimmers of wisdom, truth, humour and joy that are evident in our day if we but only take a moment to notice them.  I want my blog to celebrate both the perfections and the imperfections of life.  I want to chronicle my life, my successes and my failures, my joys and my heartaches because, in all honesty, they are what make me the woman I am today, and I wouldn't change a thing.  This is why I share my story . . . my entire story.  

For the story of this painting, check here

1 comment:

  1. I think you are right. Mourning refines us, changes us, turns us into something that we could never be otherwise. And we emerge into the miracle that is life on the other side (when we felt that life could not possibly ever be happy again...) Sending you hugs from here, for the littl one you lost.