As my cough continued, and my nose ran on, I thumped around the kitchen. I slammed doors and threw items forcefully in the trash. L looked at me out of the corner of his eye and quietly asked if everything was okay.
Yesterday was International Bereaved Mother's Day.
And I forgot. I did not change my profile picture on fb. I did not send messages to my fellow BLM's.
All I knew was that I was missing my first half marathon. I had not ran or exercised in two weeks. And my not-cheap, first experience at a half marathon was not happening. The thumping and slamming was my pity party (and it also included a batch of no-bake cookies).
When had I become emotional about non-dead baby things? For three years I've been an advocate for awareness on anything related to miscarriage, stillbirth, infant loss, and infertility. For three years I scoffed at things I felt were unimportant, but that "normal" people deemed important...missing a tv show, work drama, etc.
Part of me wishes I'd been astute enough to plan for this half marathon on IBMD day, so that I could run for me and my fellow mama's. Part of me wonders if I'm losing my touch with the BLM world, and what that means. I'm confused about this new role I have, this new hobby and lifestyle. About who I'm becoming yet.
I hope you felt valued yesterday. I hope you feel valued every day, even if you don't have your baby(s) in your arms. I hope you know that even if I don't write here, I'm still thinking of you all, and of your baby(s). Sending love.