Life goes on…

After losing Kora and Ava I found that I walked in a world that I no longer recognised. For us our world had coming crashing down and time had stood still. Yet everywhere we looked life went on.

It felt so surreal to me. We had lost our babies and were preparing to cremate them whilst others were going about their daily business. Tweeting what they were having for dinner, or posting about the mundane of their day. I say that with no offence intended but rather to highlight the ordinary.

We had no choice but to enter this world again as we are both self employed. We had no time off after leaving hospital to grieve our losses.

I would look around me in whatever social or business setting I was in and wonder how or if I would ever feel like I lived in their world again. I would wonder if the small things in life would wind me up like it does others, or whether my laughter would return and be as genuine as it had always been.

I wondered if small talk would return with the interest I would show before. It was like I was walking through life interacting with others as I had before but inside I was breaking. My heart didn’t feel like it wanted to beat, it wasn’t ‘in’ any situation.

I remember thinking nothing would ever feel the same again. To be honest, it hasn’t and I’m not sure it ever will. I have changed. I have a different perspective on most things. Things that use to seem important now seem trivial to me.

That’s not to say that I don’t empathise with others. After all everything is relative and we all have different strengths, capabilities, and coping skills. It’s just for me now whatever I face whether it’s making dinner, idle chat or something more serious nothing compares to the loss of our daughters.

In a society that watches After Life and sympathise with his grieve. Where people post how moving and touching the series has been. Where people well up or shed a few tears. I hope that one day society will have this same empathy and understanding of pregnancy loss, miscarriage and IVF. I hope that one day we will talk openly about this loss and that it won’t be an incredibly lonely time.

For now though, I will continue to live in your world. I will interact and engage as I am expected. I will appear to be the person you want me to be. I will shield you from the truth that we live in. I have learnt that life goes on even if I feel mine has stopped. Grief is my new normal everything else is the mask.