"Just because someone carries it well, doesn't mean it isn't heavy."
It's been two years since we lost our Phoenix. I've had people tell me they thought my miscarriage must not have been that hard because I had posted about doing other things that day on social media. And yes, I posted about cleaning the car and even made a joke about what food was crumbled in the car seats. But I didn't post about how we tore everything out of our garage and re-arranged the whole thing while angrily sobbing and questioning God. About how I was so faint from the pain and blood that any time I stopped I would shake, so I told myself not to stop. Because I had been grieving many things for a long time, and this new grief felt like it would swallow me up completely.
I posted about a beautiful new orchid, but not that it was a gift from my husband's parents because of our loss. Or that his sister brought us dinner and they joined in our tears and our restless rearranging. They understood. Grief is a many faceted creature, and the facet it presents to you is not always the same as it presents to others. Some close themselves off, some throw themselves into work, some sit in the full anguish of it, and some put it in a box, contained. Most of us will cycle through all of it, because that is what grief and deep loss are, a cycle. A journey. Not one we want to take, but one that gets woven into our lives.
I've had the privilege of sharing grief with many others. The blessing of words and actions from unexpected places. And yes, some words of hurt, often made in ignorance, forgiven but not quickly forgotten. I try to see them as reminder to be careful with MY words when trying to comfort a grief I haven't walked through. It has made me be more thoughtful of making assumptions, like the one above, about where people are along their journey. I do not know their story. I do not always see their secret pain. Not everyone is willing or ready to share.
But to the woman who gently runs her fingers across that tiny outfit in the store and sighs, I see you. To the woman who has so much love in her heart, and pours precious time into children that aren't her own, I see you. To the woman who tears up every time she holds a baby, I see you. You are not alone.❤
