Who I am…

I am not superhuman.  I am not invincible.  This I have come to understand through the loss of my son, Leif, during his 7th month in the womb.  His heart stopped beating unexpectedly in a Universe where expectations were set high for Life, for survival, for the future vision of a family.  I gave birth to a body that no longer kicked, to tears that were my own, and to an existence full of questions, grief, and a new search for purpose.  This is my process.  This is my healing.  This is the language that I share with anyone who has ever suffered from loss.


8 thoughts on “Who I am…

  1. I too suffered a loss of my first baby. Mine was much younger than yours. I can not even imagine your feeling of loss and emptiness, but you are whole and perfect my friend. I love you, your courage, your strength. Please keep writing and speaking your truth.

  2. I am so sorry for the loss of your Leif. I, too, lost a child almost one year ago. I hope you will continue to write. While we all deal with our grief in our own very personal ways, in my experience, I’ve found writing to be one of the few ways in which I can really bring myself to a place to process my thoughts and emotions. Writing became my obsession in the first several months after the death of my daughter. Looking back I recognize that it played, and continues to play, an essential role in my journey to healing. I will keep you in my thoughts and prayers.

  3. I lost a 26 year old son, and your vulnerability gives me inspiration to write my stories again, this time with my feelings instead of only my head. Thank you for sharing.

  4. I’m so sorry for the loss of your son, Leif. You gave him a beautiful name.

    What you say about expectations is very true. Such a simple, innocent expectation, that a baby will live, survive and join a family. I’m so sorry that those expectation were not fulfilled.

    Wishing you peace and healing xo

  5. i have been thinking about you since i heard of your loss. i went through four miscarriages, one at 22 weeks, but had two healthy babies along the way. the losses were heartbreaking and heart opening at the same time.

    I recently came across this quote from Emily Dickinson:
    “After great pain a formal feeling comes-”
    and it totally resonated, after each miscarriage i felt in some ways internally reshaped, like a new person, finding a new way in the world, but also somehow wiped clean and starting afresh.

    these are the darkest days. but the gift is that your spirit is so raw and awake, so in touch with truth.

    wishing you the peace that passeth all understanding,


  6. I’m so sorry that Leif is not here. I just really am sorry.
    I found you from your response to Angie’s lates post over at Glow. Everything you said there resonates so much with me. I’m still asking why, why, why, just over 14 months after our Joseph died. “This world of labyrinths and its dead ends, but all I get is more questions. When will my life’s interrogation stop? How long before I accept all that has been and is, and move on? How long before I look back and see all the answers?”. I couldn’t have said it better myself. I wish I had all the answers. For you and for me.
    I’m following now, if that’s OK. Peace to you.

  7. Thank you for following Kate. We can only hope that someday we will stumble upon some answers. For now, we just have to accept the mystery, in trust that in some strange way, it was all for the best, that someone our souls and the souls of our babies made this pact, signed this contract way before this lifetime. Blessings to you Dear one!

  8. Ania, I’m not sure if you’ll read this but here goes.
    I am buying into a magical property in rural area. We are doing a ‘tree change’. The property is/was owned by two very sprititual sisters. I have been researching both as one was an artist (her ashes are spread at the property), the other is a writer and editor (who’s partners ashes are spread at the property). I came across this article, written by the surviving sister. I had tears towards the end of the article.
    It’s been a while since I’ve commented on your blog (eg, above). I came back to this page and read your response to my comment above, so then felt compelled to share the said article with you. For interest or for comfort. Love to you.

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