My first loss happened on December 26. The memory of the days following it are so fresh in my mind. I remember leaving the hospital and assuring my friend who had called that yes, we would still be hosting our annual New Years Eve party. That call truly made me believe that I should “get over” my loss quickly. And I honestly thought that when I left the hospital I would be leaving my heart break with it. I believed that the physical wounds would heal quickly, leaving no trace of the loss. Or so I had convinced myself.
I went home and prepped for the party because that’s what I thought I should do. I didn’t cry. I didn’t allow myself to think about what had happened. Nobody called to ask how I was feeling. So I just…kept going.
I remember when New Years Eve arrived, my house was filled with my closest friends, drinking, laughing, and chatting. I was sitting on my couch with a house full of people but I had never felt so alone in my life. Everyone was talking around me but no one talked to me. I sat on my couch and not one person had come over and acknowledged my loss. Or asked how I was doing. Or simply sat with me in silence. They all looked straight through me. I was sitting in plain sight but no one, not one person, saw me. I went upstairs and crawled into bed before midnight. I remember laying in my bed and listening to the party going on downstairs without me. The sound of life and laughter only amplified the silence and the emptiness that was in my heart. And I cried. I really and truly cried. I cried for the loss of my baby but I also cried for the loss of me. I cried for the fact that I felt like I had to quickly move on. I cried for the fact that I was compelled to still host a party despite having just gone through the most traumatic event of my life thus far. I cried for the fact that I did not have the strength to say no or to speak my truth. Instead, I had felt the need to keep up social politeness and pleasantries. Every tear that fell onto my pillow that night was a reminder of how I had tended to every one else’s heart but not my own. In the darkness of the night as a new year crept in, I vowed to never be silent again. I promised to speak up for what I needed. I vowed to honour my baby by honouring myself.
The holidays after loss, no matter the amount of time that has since passed, can be hard. Please know that you are not alone. If you have been invited to a party or are hosting one but it doesn’t feel right, honour your feelings and say no. Let my silence drive your voice, and drive your truth.
I wish you well this holiday season momma. ❤️
- My Babies are Real Even if You Can’t See Them
This is was a post that I wrote for Still Standing Magazine. You can see the original here. A copy of that article is shown below: “Do you see it Mom?’ my Rainbow daughter asked me one morning. “See what”? I replied, half awake “The beautiful colored lights all around us” Curiously, I looked around […][read more]
- Episode 11 with Erica M Mcafee
This article originally appeared at Erica’s web site here. I have duplicated the article below for your convenience. https://www.ericammcafee.com/podcast/ep11 In today’s episode Aditi Loveridge, shares her Pregnancy Loss Story and how healing tools helped her rediscover trust and inner power, so she could engage in life again. After losing her first two pregnancies, she was […][read more]
- Learning to Trust After Loss
This article originally appeared in Birthing Magazine (Summary/Fall 2014). To download the original article as a PDF, click here. The entire article has been provided below for your reading: NOTE TO READERS: THIS STORY DISCUSSES INFANT LOSS In the evening of October 2, 2012, I went into labour. My contractions were light in the […][read more]
- We Are Mothers – A Visual Project showing Connection
I am honoured to have been a part of this project. The visual project shows the power in connection and in sharing our stories. Having other women who can relate to your experience of loss is truly healing. Each story that was shared and each tear that was shed connected us. It was a deep reminder that.We are not alone. And no matter...[read more]