Monday, May 17, 2010

1 Year and 175 Posts Later - Happy Blogoversary to me.

I started this journey, a full year ago today, on May 17th of last year, with a single desperate poem.




(Mother's) Day
Where I had imagined breakfast in bed,
I found only tears on my pillow.
Where I had imagined flowers and a card,
I found only flowers on her grave.
Where I had imagined a home of happy chaos and noise,
I found only weeping through silence.
Where I had imagined my child at my chest,
I found only emptiness and aching. 
Where I had imagined Motherhood celebrated,
I found only another painful reminder of loss.

~Kristin Binder


I can still remember how it felt to post that first time. Sitting home, crying, I couldn't help but wonder how the world could be so cruel.



I was seven months into my grief. Seven months into feeling alone, and misunderstood, and like I had no place to go and be heard. I was seven months into hearing platitudes like:

"everything happens for a reason"
"at least you know who your angel is"
"she's in a better place"
"this too shall pass"
"at least she was so young so you didn't really get to know her"
"it is God's will"
"time heals all things"
"God doesn't give you more than you can handle"

I was seven months in, I had the love and support of my family and friends, and yet, I felt so very, very alone. 

That first day my post didn't get any comments. I was this blog's only reader and knew it was quite possible that no one would ever find it, but none of that mattered to me. I had something I felt compelled to document, about what it was to outlive my only child, and this page, with its simple template, allowed an opportunity for that. 

I didn't know what I would say, or that anything I had to say was of any value. I didn't know that my words here would ever be read, but as that poem poured from me, I felt something - relief. It was cathartic. Healing. Freeing. My message was out there, my story was being told, and even if this page never garnered an audience, a hundred years from now, it would still be out there. A living history of that day, my first Mother's Day, without my child.

When I started this blog, I had never really read a blog (beyond the one my sister created to keep family informed of Peyton's health) or knew about this online community. I had no idea that over the course of the next year, I would meet so many women (and a few men too) who, like me, hurt for the children they loved and lost, or for the pain of having parenthood remain unfairly out of reach. 

Writing here brought me into this amazing online forum, a place where reading the pages of others who have walked this road, and posting comments in response to what they have written, opens up a form of dialogue that does as much (if not more) for the healing of my broken heart, than any drugs, or therapies could ever manage. Just as I have shared my daughter, my journey, and my thoughts with you, you have shared yourselves with me.

On that first day last May, I could never have fathomed what this blogging world would come to mean for me, the friends I would make here, or the way your stories would touch my heart and change my life. I couldn't have imagined that such a huge world of babyloss existed outside of my own heartache, or how bittersweet a feeling it would be, to meet some of the incredible writers in this community, to feel truly blessed to have them in my life, and know all the while that it is only through pain and loss, that we have come together.

Over the course of this year I have gone from the darkest depths of grief, to living with my grief. I have gone from never wanting to hold another child, to building up the courage to try again, to battling with unexplained infertility, the discovery of my blocked tubes, and our latest trials and tribulations with IVF. This road has been hard to navigate, and yet, behind each twist and turn, this community has been there, guiding, supportive, and full of compassion, and for this, I am forever grateful.

I guess that's really what this post is about. About saying Thank You. From the bottom of my heart. Thank you. For coming here and reading my words without judgement. For bringing wisdom to some truly impossible situations with your comments, and for never leaving me to travel this road alone. Thank you.

28 comments:

  1. Yay for a year of blogging, connecting, grieving and healing! You have not moved on, but forward! Thank you for your words and for sharing your heart!

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  2. Thank you for putting it out there; for making all of us feel so much less alone.

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  3. Thank you for sharing your journey and the story of your daughter with us.

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  4. ((HUG)) thanks for sharing your journey with us...thanks for holding hands with us...thanks for being.

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  5. My heart is always with you. ((HUGS))

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  6. No, thank you!!! Your words have helped me on the darkest days. You and Peyton have touched my life forever and I am so greatful that we have cross paths in this life. I know it is for the most unimaginable reason but I feel blessed to know you.
    I was like you, I just wrote not knowing how many doors would open for me. I didn't care who would have to listen to what I had to say. I just needed to do this for me. Crazy how things happen huh? Well I am glad that this blog has been a wonderful outlet for you and that you have met so many people that truly care for you.

    So happy blogversary for you! ((HUGS))

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  7. Thank you for sharing your heart so honestly. Congratulations on one year of blogging just doesn't seem like the right thing to say...because I know the agony that brought you here. But, I do think your words have resonated with many...and your writing is so honest and beautiful. For that, I am grateful. (By the way...I posted a few times about one of my least favorite sayings..."God doesn't give us more than we can handle". I noticed it on your list. That statement is simply NOT TRUE, as you probably already know. I have a plaque in my kitchen that says it better, "God doesn't give us what we can handle. He helps us handle what we are given." So many of those trite little sayings do the opposite of giving comfort...even though I know people mean well. O.K....I'll get off my soapbox now!)

    Love to you,
    Kelly

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  8. Glad to have connected with you through your blog, but wishing of course we had something different from babyloss in common. Someone said to me today about our son's death that "everything happens for a reason," and I was a sobbing mess. They mean well, I try to remind myself, but it's so cruel to hear comments like that when your heart is already broken. Thinking of you and sending you love. xo

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  9. Never judging, always loving and praying for you...lifting you up and hoping that the coming days are gentle and kind...knowing that your sweet baby girl has truly touched so many hearts.

    Many hugs!

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  10. No need to thank us-- we should all be thanking you for the way in which you've opened up so many others to describing, and healing from, their grief. AND your words are always beautiful to read!

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  11. So glad I found you. At the very least, with each other, we feel less alone.
    xo

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  12. Others have said it better than I can. Thank YOU for blogging.

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  13. Only in authenticity with each other do we heal. Your blog is cathartic and healing for you, but also for us. Don't we all just long to know that we are not alone? That the pain we are feeling hasn't completely isolated us from everything.

    Thank you, Kristin. Thank you for inviting us into your pain, and helping us understand our own pain better.

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  14. So glad for you and your blog. You provide many encouraging and beautiful words amidst the grief that you experience. Thank you.

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  15. Happy Blogaversary! So glad we met.

    ((hugs))

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  16. Starting my blog was the single most healing thing I had done for myself. I'm so glad that you have found a place where you can express your pain and feel loved and supported through such trials!

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  17. I can't even find the words. I don't want to write "happy blogoversary" because the creation of this blog was for you to express your grief.

    The blessing is that you learned that you are not alone in your loss.

    Never give up.

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  18. Happy Blogoversary!!! Thank you for sharing your story. Best wishes

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  19. ((hugs)) thank you for being so honest and open...and for sharing your heart and sweet peyton with us..xo

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  20. Hugs- THANK YOU for sharing Peyton and yourself.

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  21. Thank you Kristin!! ((hug))

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  22. Thank you so much for your blog. Thank you for sharing your beautiful daughter with us. Thank you for letting us read your story and know that this horrible pain is not ours alone.
    Sending hugs,
    xoxo

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  23. Thank you for sharing your heart and little Peyton with us. Your blog has helped me so much through my own grief. I think about you often, and I wish you everything good and sweet and peaceful.

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  24. Bless you ... thanks for sharing your story. Happy Blogoversary!!

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  25. Thank you for sharing your journey and your life with us. I love reading your blog. I commend you on your willingness and courage in sharing your true and raw emotions without fear of judgment.

    love and prayers
    elena

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  26. Wow... what a powerful post!
    Thank you for pouring your heart out to us and write so beautifully about your sweet Peyton. I will most definitely come back to read this post again... what a great tribute to this community that's so close to my heart. Thanks...

    Happy blogoversary!

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  27. I am so glad you started your blog & so extremely grateful to have been given the chance to get to know you & Peyton. I am even more grateful to be able to call you a friend. You are part of the beauty from pain I have experienced.

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