It’s still new for me to say it out loud, but I’m going to say it anyway. I am writing a book. A companion journal for mother’s who know loss be it to infertility, miscarriage, stillbirth, early infant loss or any other. Loss is loss.
I can see the journal so clearly, how it will look and even how it will feel to hold; to write in. This book will be covered in pretty things, tied with a ribbon and a promise to hold all it contains forever close. This book will be a place for mother’s to feel less alone, to capture memories and search their hearts, unearthing the treasures that await them there. Gifts for them alone.
Ralph Waldo Emerson once said “Life is a journey, not a destination.” And so it is for healing, more a way than a place one arrives. Being with our grief is a worthy journey. Though not popular in our culture, being intimate with our suffering has the power to bring peace and healing. This is the inspiration for this companion journal.
After seven years of living in my journal alone, this book is unfolding. It begins with a chapter on stillness and ends with a chapter on sharing. Each of the book’s five chapters includes stories, quotes, and poems followed by big, beautifully illustrated open spaces to journal.
Writing this companion journal is part of my healing journey to be certain. In 2005 we lost our first son. Leo took flight and left me with a heart full of pain. About a week into my struggle to accept our loss I experienced what I can only describe as a calling. It happened like a tap on my shoulder, a tap that spoke to my heart even though it made no sense to my head. I was supposed to write about my journey with loss.
I doubted this tap. I though, “Who is gonna want to read about my life?” But I started to write anyway. With pen to paper, I wrestled with my life and searched for answers to the questions that filled me.
Six months after losing Leo, one miscarriage turned into two. Turned into three. I was down on my knees and the call got louder. I wasn’t doubting anymore. Turned into four. Turned into five. Somewhere in the middle there, I started to believe. I was supposed to make time for my grief to live; to hold love present to my pain that I may be called ever closer to the fullness of life; to share my story and to listen to the stories of others with out judgment or conditions. I was supposed to tell my story.
The chapters are taking shape, miraculously, like little baby fingers and little baby toes. If this book were a baby I think I’m somewhere near the end of my first trimester. An early spring birth, 2014, in time for Mother’s Day and the anniversary of Leo’s passing. I hope so anyway.
It takes a team to have a baby and I am very clear, it will take no less to bring this book to life. I hope you will be there for the long haul so together we can wonder at it’s creation into being.
In my next post I’ll show you a picture of how I see this companion journal looking. Like an eight week ultrasound, this picture will give you a glimpse of what I hope this ‘lil angel will look like one day soon. I can’t wait to show you. (I think it’s going to have my husband’s nose…)
I believe that when we follow our bliss, anything is possible. If you are a mother that knows loss, I hope you walk with me and other moms that know what it is to grieve as well. This journey we are on is easier when we are holding hands. Join for support and inspiration for the journey of life after loss.