When the pain doesn't stop.

I had a miscarriage at 14 weeks over three years ago.  I went in for a routine checkup, and she was just gone.  No reason.  No signs as to why.  She was just gone.  

The next several months are a blur of darkness and pain.  I barely have any memories of them other than laying in my bed or in my bathtub crying and crying and crying.  But every storm ends.  And at the end of every storm is a rainbow.  A bright, beautiful rainbow.  Mine is a 2 1/2-year-old spitfire named Emalee.  

The trouble with grief, though, is it doesn't end.  It is always there somewhere.  It just gets easier to deal with.  Instead of hurting and being depressed all the time, the hours turn to days, then weeks, and then months between unbearable episodes.  I am at a stage in grieving the loss of my 3rd child where while I think about her every single day, I only feel overwhelming feelings of loss twice a year-on the date I lost her and around her due date, which is coming up next week.   

As time passes, I learn more and more ways to deal with my loss in a healthy manner.  I find ways to distract myself and keep busy.  I try really hard not to let myself have any downtime during those two weeks of the year because I feel guilty letting myself grieve when I have three healthy children who need me.  

Today I realized that I need to stop fighting these feelings and allow them to just play out.  I read a quote once that said it's okay to cry and have a breakdown.  Just don't unpack and stay there.  Yesterday, I had my breakdown.  Now it's time to pack up and go home.  All the tears in the world won't bring McKenna back.  It's time to focus on making a healthy life for myself and for her three siblings.