When Tragedy Happens

Samantha and Nebulas a few weeks old (now 3 yrs old)

When something happens that is out of our control and just horrible time seems to stand still and speed up all at once. Some parts of us are hovering in this place of shock and grief, while another part of us is in a place of anger and overwhelm. Teetering back and forth. Knowing one way or another we will never be the same again. It’s a very heavy state of being that makes it hard to see past the pain.

Most of you are aware that I lost a pregnancy not too long before Nebulas was born. Losing a child at any age is terrible, but I know from personal experience that losing one that you've been pregnant with for 25 weeks is horribly devastating. Needless to say I was pretty inconsolable for a few weeks. It's very challenging physically and mentally when your body thinks it has had your baby, but you don't have your baby. Instead there's a weird silence. Your baby's presence was in the house, the most prominent, until it wasn't. And even though you didn't get to hear your baby cry, it is still missing. My physical body looked and felt like I had a baby. So I couldn't even look at myself. And I'm really only sharing the aftermath because the journey along the way to her dying was its own terrible experience and too much of me to share.

I am different from this experience. How could I not be? And I can say now that I'm on the other side of it, that I am more humble, grateful, patient and kind hearted. I am in no way an expert in grief. All I can offer is what my process looked like after this life altering circumstance.

I cried hard and as often I needed to. I gave myself time to spiral out. Not to be harmful to myself but to just not be accountable for anything including eating, drinking, showering, sleeping a healthy amount (I was afraid to sleep, afraid of what I would dream of). When I had nervous energy I kept my hands busy. Whatever happened, happened, as long as it wasn’t harmful to myself or others, in which case I would, and have gotten professional help. This probably spanned about 4-6 blurry weeks.

Then somewhere inside I just started to feel a readiness to come back to some kind of normal, so I started with taking 30 deep breaths. I don’t know why I started this way and I didn’t know this was the start of my healing process at the time. It’s just what I’ve trained my body to do most of my adult life to get some mental space. Sometimes I would lose count and just start over. When I felt like I was ready for more than 30 deep breaths I’d lay with my legs up the wall. Really focusing on my breathing. Over a few weeks, legs up the wall turned into half sun salutations, which turned into sun A's, and the process continued until the practice brought me back to being functional and ready to move forward. 

It’s ok to spiral out when tragedy strikes and it’s ok to bounce back. In the beginning of my healing process I felt bad at times for feeling joy. Laughter came back slowly and initially with guilt. But we have to come back one way or another. These horrible experiences that shift our microcosm and leave deep imprints (Samskara) completely changing us forever are brutal, but they are going to happen.

I felt compelled to share this because I know a few of you are carrying heavy hearts right now. I've actually held back on putting this out there because it is so personal but I just felt like it was time to share. I'll always carry a heavy heart. You can bet I cried writing this. I just try to remind myself that this is unfortunately part of my journey and I'm meant to see the world the way I see it so I can play my unique part in it. My task is to sit in silence, breathe and observe. To keep doing the next right thing by letting my values and ethics guide my actions. 

Life is very fragile. Our loved ones come and go, and tragedy unfortunately happens. Let’s be grateful for the love we have in our lives and the connections we've made. 

Take care yogis