Summer is unofficially here. It’s hot. Humid. Oppressive. I’m listening to my first audiobook ever- The Body Keeps the Score and reading more overall in 2021 than I did last year. While not any significant amount of ready, it’s MORE, and it was a desire of mine for this year: read more. During the crazy FREEZE we had in February here, in East Texas, I read an entire book during lock down, and that’s something since I was stuck indoors entertaining two kiddos, no heat and moments of little/ no water or water pressure. I think the blur and trauma and loss last year brought kept me from being about to focus enough to read alot of the time. I did alot of adult coloring in my “me” time.
I’ve felt restless lately. Wanting so much, but not sure quite what needs to change or be adjusted. Instructing yoga again has been a lovely thing. So fulfilling and a true joy. I know I sound like a yuppie, hippie witch doctor, but I’ve know and believe and FELT the whole idea of the body holds onto the traumas of the past. Fear, doubt, pain, anxiety, worry, loss, doubt all held in the body.
I went to my OBGYN this week. I went through the same check in procedure as when I had Isabella with me. I braced myself for the questions or triggers or anything that would remind me of what I no longer had. And they were there. But I was okay. And I realize that I didn’t have to ever go back in that building. But I chose to. And I made it through it with lots of deep breathing and staying present.
Release can take many forms. Yoga, writing, counseling, massage, meditation; the “letting go of” is not just mental, but physical too. I don’t know why I’m personally circling lately. When I can’t lay my finger on what it is that’s nested in hair, or is giving me goosebumps or the hindrance I can’t seem to shake, I stop and wonder if there is something else I need to let go of.
Something I need to revisit or heal from. Maybe again. Maybe I thought I was done, but it’s not over. I realize these things come in waves. But this time feel different.
I am in a season of waiting, as Mike and I are recently engaged and we’ve begun the discussions of weddings or elopements or spring/ fall, large/ small… It’s exciting and fun, but still, there is the waiting. The anticipation. The hopefulness that comes with starting new. Beginning.
And when emotions run high, anger, sadness, happiness, joy- I think of Isabella. I wish she could know her dad. I know he would be so freaking proud of her; showing her off, stealing her snuggles, baby wearing during weekend visits to Home Depot and offering her steak- much to my disapproval! I think of our life together, our lives together and wish she could be here, running underfoot and being spoiled by all five of us.
We will exchange rings, and vows and a kiss. I’m beyond grateful to have had my time with Isabella. Mike and I are think of her constantly and wish for nothing more than to have had a healthy baby girl. I still get fiery anger when people say/ write dumb things, I still wonder what grief will look like in a year, or five or ten. I’m still growing through these things, working through them trying to be a better mom, wife, friend because of all this. She’s given me more than I ever thought possible.