When I first told a friend of mine how we had lost Sofia, after she shared in our devastation and tears her first thought was to put me in touch with a friend of hers I had met at both her wedding and baby shower. This friend had lost her first son at 33 weeks and was willing to share her grief and her story with me and answer any questions from a stage beyond the devastation and the hurt of now.
At first there was the dull ache in my throat, the guttural choking that had become the preliminary sign of my ultimate undoing. But, as time ticked by and we talked more and more I found myself laughing, smiling and feeling again. It was beautiful, it was wonderful and I am eternally grateful for that day and the advice she left me with. "If there's one piece of advice I could give anyone going through this that was more helpful than anything else." Is how she had spun it to me. And I thought the next sentence to follow would've been something like "let yourself feel your emotions," or "dont be too hard on yourself." All very good advice, but, what she said next was both shocking and profoundly meaningful. "Meditation."
Of course when someone says the word meditation you think of Buddhist monks, sitting cross legged with fingers creating an "o" while chanting ummmmmmmmm. There is nothing against this type of well practiced meditation, however, she meant more of the guided meditation. I didnt immediately take her advice, i still had numerous doctors appointments and other things on my mind to keep me busy. But the day the actual autopsy report was delivered to our door was the day I felt my entire being just crumple and sink into self doubt, guilt, anger and the sheer sadness once more. Through the autopsy it proved there was nothing wrong with this baby girl, that she was healthy and that she should have made it full term to be in my arms if not for my clotting factor. I felt so stupid plaguing myself with the what ifs all over again as I crumpled to my kitchen floor feeling the sobs shake my entire body. "Its my fault." "I did this." "I couldn't take care of her." It was becoming a mantra and the more I said these things the heavier my heart and body felt.
Thankfully the dog pulled me from my pit of despair with his little huffy barks asking me to take him outside. Outside we went and as I sat on the deck listening to birds and crickets chirping he decided it was a good time to lay down and sun bath, so I pulled out my phone and quickly googled "grief meditation." I clicked through one or two of the results before I settled into lying on the deck and closing my eyes. The first one I did was brief less than 10 minutes and I could feel some of the heaviness lifting so I tried a second one that was a little longer. It was wave after wave of crushing emotions, tears fell and through it all i kept focused on the voice and my breath that helped guide me through. After it was over I felt lighter. I felt the pressures lift from my chest even as the tears continued to fall. I felt a sense of relief, relaxed perhaps. I was so light that when I went back in to sit on the couch I fell asleep. For the first time in several weeks I fell into the embrace of sleep without the assistance of a drug, without restless thoughts. It came swift and easily as it had before all of this. It was one time and it was beautiful. I knew then what the mutual friend had meant when she spoke on meditation and I know going forward it will be a great asset to finding some form of healing for my broken heart.
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