Over the past few weeks, Ian and I stepped into one of those experiences. We became pregnant for the first time. We were so happy. And a few weeks ago, we had to terminate our pregnancy at 14 weeks.
Even writing that sentence still feels surreal. Very sad, and not what we wanted.
One of the most surprising parts of this experience has been realizing how different this grief feels compared to the grief I had known before.
Previously, grief felt like the floor disappearing beneath me. Total emotional collapse. Something dark, all-consuming, and unbearable. It felt like devastation.
But this grief - an ambiguous one - grieving someone I never fully got to meet, is different. And it keeps on revealing itself in its depth, and also its beauty. Yes, there have been moments of absolute heartbreak. Shock. Moments where I wept, and wept. Moments of fear, hormonal chaos, physical pain, and deep sorrow. But not complete annihilation (perhaps it will come, though).
What surprised me was also this: this grief did not always feel like suffering.
There were moments where crying felt powerfully cleansing. That I was given a chance to cry more deeply that I had in years. These moments are soul-revealing. Humbling. Human.
My body is moving gigantic amounts of emotion, instead of collapsing underneath it.
And alongside the grief, there has also been extraordinary love. Ian feeding me when I could barely function. Massaging my body. Sitting beside me through waves of emotion. Holding me without trying to rush me out of the experience.
There are moments where we feel more connected to each other than ever before.
Love did not disappear in our grief. It’s as if it became even more visible through it.
This is something I have not heard talked about when it comes to loss. There can be devastation and beauty at the same time. Heartbreak and tenderness. Pain and laughter. Grief and deep love.
One moment we are crying in bed. The next, laughing about inside jokes of what we imagine our baby would whisper to us. And then we feel overwhelming gratitude for the love surrounding us. Then again, feeling so sad that this is our reality at all.
It all exists together.
And this makes me wonder how much more supported would we all feel if we collectively became more emotionally prepared for loss before it arrived.
Not just death. But miscarriages. Illness. Endings. Change. Versions of life we thought we would have.
Because loss is inevitable in human life.
Yet we don’t teach each other how to stay connected to ourselves when things fall apart. We are taught how to pursue happiness, love, achievement, success, family. But very few people are taught how to expect and ride along with grief.
And maybe emotional maturity is not just learning how to love when life is beautiful. Maybe it is also learning how to remain connected to ourselves, to each other, and to life itself when life becomes painful.
Grief is not the opposite of love. Very often, grief is proof of how deeply we loved.
I heard that grief is simply love with nowhere to go. What do you think?
PS: In the next week or two, I’ll come back here with a list of resources that helped us emotionally through this process.
The part about preparing is so important. Never looking at death, sickness, and loss until it happens leaves us so unprepared. I've looked at other cultures who carry those things in daily life and i love how it can not only cushion the bad things when they happen but enhance our appreciation for what we do have when we have it.