The children's centre that Ethan receives his support services from, is adjacent to the birthing area of the hospital. I noticed a few months ago, that each time I drive to the centre or hospital from work, that I relive the moment of driving to the hospital on October 1, 2015. I'm driving the same car, and taking all of the same turns as I did that day. And I remember the rush of anxiety inside of me as I sped my way there that day. It's an indescribable, and haunting feeling that still feels so fresh. I don't know what to make of it, but it's a very uncomfortable feeling.
I've had more than my share of hospital visits between Ethan and myself the last few years. I have always said I hated hospitals, even before Isabel. However, I have come to appreciate them and what they do for us, because they have done a lot.
Most people don't know this, because we chose not to share. But we conceived shortly after Isabel's one year birthday. It was a beautiful gift, and we felt like good was finally coming back our way. We decided a few months before that, that we were ready to try again, and to take another chance at opening our hearts up to more love. It happened so quickly, and we felt beyond blessed. I had some red flags at the beginning, which took me to the Early Pregnancy Assessment Unit, I was experiencing things I had never before, so I made sure to get monitored early. Everything was okay for 4 weeks, but then it wasn't. I had miscarried again. It was my third time since having Ethan, and my second missed miscarriage, which meant I had to wait for it to occur naturally, or have a procedure done.
This time was very different though; we had never really felt it like this. Losing Isabel made this time harder, this time more painful. And although it was very early, it still hurt just as much. It still broke our hearts, and it still continues our pain. The suffering never ends. It's everyday: it's in my car driving, looking at the backseat and only seeing one car seat where they should be two, it's at the park watching siblings play, it's everywhere in many different forms. Does it ever end? Are there breaks in it for hope to thrive? Is it a test? What are we to learn? Are we going to lose hope forever?How do you believe in something when you know nothing is ever a sure thing? Do we keep trying only to keep losing hope? So many questions, and no answers.
But we keep going. Because what's the point of anything, if we don't have hope, or find purpose in our lives? We need to keep believing in something. As hard as it is, believing is what keeps us going, keeps us fighting. If we aren't willing to believe, than what are we doing here? Are we just living to die? We need purpose, and we need to live authentically through that purpose.
Although my pain hurts and I am suffering, the pain of the world is very heavy. People are losing their loved ones just for being in the wrong place. Fear, hatred and anger are everywhere. It's not fair, and none of us should have to live this way.
My pain is important to me, but it's not everything, it keeps me going. It teaches me compassion for myself and others. Just as I am learning from Ethan and Isabel, I am also learning from my pain, and the pain of the world. I wish I could change it all, but all I can do right now is start with me.