Miscarriage

It’s not a word that I ever thought would become part of me. There are lots of other words that I had readily accepted as part of my life: death, grief, cancer, failure, pain. Words that fill us with dread. But miscarriage isn’t one I saw becoming part of my landscape, part of my history. Part of me.

And it’s a part of me that is being lost. Right now. Waves of pain crash into an emptying void where, just three days ago, bright hopes lay. I cannot sleep and so I write this.

Utter hopelessness was my first reaction. I am a doer. When the doctor shook her head and said “Oh dear” I wanted there to be something I could do. But there wasn’t, and there isn’t and so I am losing this little life, living through this process as nature decides and my body responds.

I am OK with that decision. Nature has its reasons and I understand that it is for the best. But it is a decision of such sorrow. It is a decision where light and laughter and fun and wild times of a growing family are snatched away before you had the chance to see them properly. It is a decision which is an aggressive attack on me as a woman; a decision which rips out what it means to be female. I can no longer nurture or protect that little life as I should.  

And it is a decision I have no answers to. There can be no whys because there are no answers.

Just silence.

So we hold hands and we savour every drop of our beautiful young son, so full of life and love and curiosity and mayhem that being with him you can forget, just for a minute, the dark hole of loss happening right now. We are lucky to have him. We are grateful that he came first, before this, so that we know the possibilities when nature is on our side.

And we wait. We wait for the storm to pass and peace to descend. We know it will, eventually, after the swells of sadness. And then the sun will rise over tranquil waters and we will keep sailing forwards. Together.

Because that is all you can do.

I have had lots of love and support from friends and family for which I am extremely grateful. Also, reading the information here has helped tremendously:  http://www.miscarriageassociation.org.uk/

Over your shoulder

It's that time of year when we look back at where we've come from, what we've brought with us, who we've got alongside us and slowly turn to face the turning of one year into another.

I'm going to keep this short and sweet because, really, I should be packing for my imminent Christmas and New Year ski trip.

Things I am proud of:

• Finding a wonderful life. OK, that sounds stupid, but the life my husband and I had at the start of the year wasn't our life. Patience was hard, there were bumps in the road. But perseverance won through and we now live in a great place, have made fun, new friends, are working on things we enjoy and have a life we both love. 
• Completing NaNoWriMo. This deserves a whole other post all to itself, but dedicating myself to writing a book taught me how with enough grit, rhythm and routine you can achieve a lot (of words) in a short space of time. 
• M&MRC Does Eastern Europe. There are people on this planet that are there to make your life better (and hopefully you do the same for them). Getting to travel with my partner-in-crime-running-and-therapy-friend-extraordinaire, Maria, through Austria, Croatia, Montenegro and Albania this summer was simply amazing, precious and, as always, too much fun. 
• An expanding family. Technically, I did nothing to help achieve this, but becoming an aunt for the first time on both sides of the family was a real joy. We've yet to meet one of our new nephews in person, but knowing there are new Alonsos and Milsoms in the world is a simple and beautiful happiness. 
• Not giving up. This isn't about me, but my grandma. After living in her own home by herself, she had a stroke recently, at 93. She's now in a nursing home and a shadow of the woman she once was. Although it was hard to see her like that at first, when I thought about her indomitable spirit, I realised there is something in her that just won't give up. I don't know if it's her Viennese constitution, or the fact she's a stubborn mule of a woman, but on some level I think it's marvellous. 
• Working on Trifecta. I joined this writing challenge website as assistant editor in the summer and have loved working with these brilliant ladies on a fantastic writing community and getting to know some truly incredible writers. Check us out: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/

Hope you have a brilliant festive season and that whatever you've got over your shoulder from 2013 brings great memories and smiles. Happy holidays!

In front of Wasserbillig, taken from Germany