There is a heaviness in my body today, a heaviness in my soul. I woke in the middle of the night to my period, the cramping reminded me on a visceral level that there is no baby, only blood. Right before I woke this morning, I dreamed that Ada had been killed. Grief lies just below my skin, covering me in an extra layer of weight.
I cried on the phone to my husband – poor man – halfway across the country with a sobbing wife and nothing to do. Not that he can do much from halfway across the room either, except come closer and make room for my tears. I am tired of being unwell. This year has been hard. A miscarriage, a broken leg, 23 weeks of nausea, bleeding, fear, doctor visits, hospital visits, surgery, Ben’s death and now this grief. Today I am feeling the toll it has taken on all of us. I am ready for a lightening, for relief. I am ready to have the energy my daughter deserves from me. I am ready to feel good and healthy in my body. I am ready for the storm to clear.