I hold happiness and grief together. I can feel instant joy for your pregnancy followed by a crushing wave of sadness. But the sadness does not belong to you, it belongs to me. In fact I hide my grief so it does not reflect onto you. Because grief comes with triggers. Little things you don’t expect will take you down the rabbit hole of sorrow. You find yourself replaying your own traumas, wanting answers, and feeling isolated. Though you may not see it, sometimes I hold in my tears so long that by the time I’m in a safe space, I can’t even cry anymore. I just remain in a catatonic state swallowed whole by my grief. The voice in my head becomes louder than any external noise. That's why I’m writing. So that little voice can be heard by someone other than me.
I have so many triggers at this point I can’t even keep track. One moment you’re carefree and happy, and the next your world feels like it's crushing in on you. It’s like your body tricks you into thinking you can move on with your life and live a normal day. But there's always something to pull you back to the cage of sorrow. Always something making sure you don’t forget what's happened to you, even when you're trying. It makes you feel like you took life for granted before grief. Like you can’t imagine what it was like before you carried so much baggage of loss with you.
I react differently to each trigger, so I never know what to expect. And I never know how long it will take to pick myself back up, and pull myself back into reality. I tell myself that with time the triggers will disappear. I yearn for a day when I hear the word baby and don’t feel my whole body freeze. Or to hear the word pregnancy and not flinch. I chose not to explain my triggers to others because I do not want them accommodated. I don’t want others to tiptoe around me. Or to try not to set off the “sad girl”. Others deserve to live a happy carefree life even if I cannot.
This brings me to why I chose not to share my story with others. I truly do not feel anyone could understand what I went through or the things I feel unless they have experienced it themselves. I know that nothing anyone says or does will lessen or better my pain or suffering. When I find myself contemplating telling someone my instant thought is, “This won’t make you feel better, It’ll make you feel worse.” Because I know no one person can heal my trauma. And I feel naked and exposed when I share my story. Like there's no hiding my pain from the world anymore. And I want to hide it. I want to shelter it from others so they do not have to feel what I feel. The last thing I want to hear is someone talking about their pregnancy and then saying, “Oh, I’m sorry Katie”. I don’t want anyone feeling uncomfortable or holding their tongue for me. I don’t want looks of sympathy, But most of all I don’t want others to talk to me about it. It's something I can’t talk about even if I tried.
I feel so many mixed emotions that sometimes I can’t decipher what I really want. I long for a child, but also feel so much fear and un-want towards pregnancy at this point. I resent how easy it is for my friends to feel want with no fear attached. Even if I prep myself mentally I’m never truly prepared. I have no control over my emotions or my actions during triggering moments. I can tell myself over and over “you’ll be fine sitting in between two pregnant women!” and then the moment comes and i feel like I’m suffocating. I know grief, loss, and sorrow changes a person, but I keep searching for a rainbow on the other side. I pray that someday I find the good hidden somewhere between all the bad. Because I don’t want to be this sad, angry, and bitter for the rest of my life.

Kathryn, so much truth and honesty in your words. I am so sorry for your losses. I cannot give you real and long-lasting comfort, and think anyone can really lessen your burden. It is, ultimately, yours. We suffer in a way that we only can fully understand. But sharing, maybe sharing might help somehow. Thank you for sharing what you feel.

I visited a friend who is about to deliver in the next few days. Another friend came to visit, with his newborn. It was pure hell in my mind. The night after I had so many nightmares. I dreamed I had a baby, but I totally forgot to nurse him, to change his diaper...to eventually find him in his crib suffering.
Anytime I think the suffering cannot be worse, somehow it strikes and punches me even harder.

I hope there is a rainbow, some sort of peace and serenity for everyone of us. I'll keep you and every mama in my prayers.