The F Word

Here I was in December 2024 newly pregnant after a successful IUI (intrauterine insemination) treatment.

Sparkling and blissfully unaware of the gutting grief that would lie ahead.

Fast forward six months to a conversation where I was told I was not as shiny or bright as I once was.

[ Insert reaction of incredulity ]

Of course I wasn’t. Grief changes you. Grief doesn’t follow a schedule. We will mourn the lives we lost in our own way and on our own timeline.

No one gets to decide how you process the losses of your pregnancies. No one.

The fact that you can show up anywhere at all after the devastation of losing the little lives that grow inside you is worthy of a standing ovation, not a criticism of your perceived persona.

If you “glow” when you’re pregnant, just what happens to that luminance when that baby is taken from you?

Reread that. Let it sink in. 

Dull doesn’t begin to describe the level of radiance that may have dimmed.

But still, you get up (maybe with a trauma haircut and highlights to distract from the pain) and face a world that doesn’t make sense without them. A sorrow that no one can see or perhaps adequately acknowledge. 

When I look at pictures of myself that were taken before my losses, there’s an essence that has been stripped. An innocence. My smile doesn’t appear the same. My eyes carry a longing that my lips can’t match.

I will never be 2024 Kim before loss. I will never be 2025 Kim after loss because 2026 Kim has lost again.

I am deeply sorry for anyone reading this who is a Loss Parent. I am sorry for the people who mistreated you in your most tender state. I am sorry for the apology you may never receive because people who haven’t walked our path will never understand.

I hope there are humans who will meet you in the darkness. Loved ones who may not know what to say but can virtually or physically put an arm around you and sit with you in the shadows of mourning.

Grief doesn’t go away. It just gets harder for people to see. But you are seen here. Every part of you. The new layers that have emerged and the former ones that are resurfacing differently and gleaming in their own right.

I am here with you. Reach out, I’ll answer.

With compassion,
Kim
♡♡

Disclaimer: This is my journey. I’m sharing with the intention so even just one other human may feel less alone. Our losses matter. Grief is not a competition. Bullying, comparisons or trying to one up someone’s grief will not be tolerated.