To heal, you have to grieve.
And to grieve, you have to know that there is no shame in it.
I allowed myself to grieve, and I was allowed to grieve.
No one told me I couldn't.
No one said that grieving was a sign of weakness.
For that, I am grateful.
My husband and I, we've spent moments just holding each other and crying.
Crying that we miss the baby we did not know.
For the things, we've planned but will never get to do with him/her.
And when the moment passed, we felt better.
We were stronger.
And we understood each other better.
We've said our goodbye to our Baby Peanut.
It wasn't easy living for a week with him/her still inside of me but knowing that he/she was already gone.
The pregnancy symptoms were still there at the time and it was a constant, painful reminder of what we no longer had.
But we got through it - together.
I went for surgery to have an Evacuation of Retained Products of Conception (ERPOC) or known as a "missed abortion".
It was surreal.
Like it was a dream.
Then when we got home from the hospital, my bump was gone.
And reality hit hard.
Peanut is gone.
We are healing, Alhamdulillah.
Days get better.
And if my husband was anyone else, I don't think I could have gone through it in one piece.
He is my strength.
He isn't afraid to feel and show me what he feels.
That makes him the bravest, strongest man I know.
And our Son, he is the reason for our everydays.
another not so mild obsession
1 week ago






