What a rush...

...of emotions.

My friend has been posting about Return to Zero. I finally watched the video and read the story. This is the mission statement so it will best tell you what the movie is about...

"While this film is intended for a wide-release to audiences regardless of their life experience, RETURN TO ZERO fills a particular niche for a market that has gone unserved -- those who have or know someone who has experienced the devastating loss of stillbirth, miscarriage, or neonatal death.

The statistics on stillbirth, which is the loss of a child after 20th week of pregnancy, are remarkable. In the U.S. alone there are approximately 36,000 stillbirths a year. That is equivalent to the amount of people who die in traffic accidents across this country every year. Yet, this topic has never been the central theme of a feature film.

The impact that one stillbirth has on the mother, the father, their family, and friends is devastating -- a shock-wave of pain, guilt and then, too often, silence. The majority of those affected, especially the mothers, suffer in this silence often believing that their grief and trauma is theirs to bear alone.

While planning to entertain and enlighten all audiences with a dramatic tale of the strength and resilience of the human spirit, RETURN TO ZERO intends to break through the silence and become a beacon of cinematic light to the millions in search of answers, understanding and healing."

http://returntozerothemovie.com/index.php

There were a words that jumped off the page at me.

Devastating loss.

Impact.

Pain, guilt, and then too often, silence.

Grief and trauma is theirs to bear alone.

Healing.

I could never imagine losing a child after 20 weeks. I just can't...

My loss was at eight weeks. One week after I saw my little bug wiggling around and heard the heart beat. Her heart beat.

I won't get into the details of my loss. I can tell you I was alone. Physically and emotionally. Well, with the exception of a busy two year old running around, oblivious to what Mommy was experiencing. But the Father, he was working and chose to continue to work...I think the thought of all of it falling apart, the relationship and now this, was too much for him. Looking back now, he did the best he could at the time. I forgive him.

I made my way to the hospital. Nanny keeping the little busy one at home. The impact of the situation struck me when the nurse was being flippant with the little bag I had brought in. I yelled at her. Frankly, I lost it. She peered inside. Her facial expression changed. She apologized profusely and I was whisked away.

It's been five years, two months and three days. I still feel the pain. A physical pain. A hurt in my body. I still feel an incredible amount of guilt. It was a stressful time. I felt responsible for not working harder to control my stress levels and all that was going on around me. I know it was nothing to do with me. It was something else. Beyond my control. But the feelings are still there. Part of being a Mom I think.

Alone. Hummmmmm. I'm not sure why we do that to ourselves. Why we don't share more often. I do talk about it more and more. Especially since getting a tattoo in her memory. It's an avenue to start the conversation. I have many friends who have experienced this same loss. I hope that as this movie makes it's way through social media, we will share. There will be less silence.
"There is no agony like bearing an untold story inside of you." - Maya Angelou

I am more than on the road to healing. I have to be. One can't dwell. I certainly think about it a lot. Every day. She represents so much. So much of what was, what could have been, what is now. I have no doubt everything happens for a reason. The time was not right for her. As my medium friend told me on two occasions, my baby girl chose me, she chose me as her temporary dwelling on this earth. It was meant to be for a short time. She was lent to me and I to her. All I could take away from that is...honor...honored to have been her Mom for even just the short while. She was loved from the moment I saw that little "+" sign on the test. She is still loved today even though my arms never held her here in the physical world.

My medium friend also told me she would be with me as a dragonfly. She was with me while I was away in Ontario on training for the summer last year. Dragonflies were showing up in the most unusual places. Following me. One even came into our shacks one night, hovered above my head and then went to my room. Of the ten rooms in the shacks she went there. She was there in the morning to greet me after my shower. She walked onto my hand. I carried her, hand wide open, down six flights of stairs, through the common room and outside. I held my hand to the sky and she flew away... Coincidence, I'd rather say not. I'd rather say she was there visiting me when I needed it the most. When I was away from my little girlie, my family, my friends.

So I'm re-reading this now. Getting set to hit publish. Trying to assess how I feel in this moment. Of course there is sadness. My girlie would love a sister. She would have made a fabulous big sister. No extra little person to hold and snuggle and love. But I also feel peace. My peace comes from knowing that everything happens as it should and I will never, ever be given more than I can handle. I feel that I want to share this. Even if just one person can relate. Can say, "That's how I feel." Even though this is very, very common, at the time you feel like you are the only person in the world feeling this deep, deep sense of loss.

Feel the feelings. Never apologize for the tears that come on milestone days. Or on just any day at all. Just because your little bug never came into the physical world, he or she was in your world. A part of you. That little part that will never be replaced.

XO