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We can all agree that the grief journey is sacred and unpredictable to each individual. Lately I’ve been feeling that my grief has been shifting, and causing me to change with it. It’s been a slow change, it took a while to distinguish that it was even there; but as one who has learned the importance of self- care, I’m glad that I took notice of this shift and I’m making adjustments as necessary.

I guess the simplest way to sum up the change is that I’m doing “better”. It feels strange to say it that way, almost like I’m simplifying grief altogether. For me, there is no “getting over it” or “moving on” when it comes to figuring out how live life without two of my children. Rather, as I’ve mentioned before, grief is a lifestyle that I’ve had to adapt to; instead of “moving on” I’m just moving. That has felt like the hardest part of it all- learning how to continue to move through life when a part of me feels like it’s died along with my children.

Now over a year and half after Zuri died, and two and a half years since my miscarriage, it feels like I can actually feel the motion. I feel the need to do things, create, and experience life. If you had asked me to even try to feel this way at this same time last year, I would have probably just burst into tears.

The things that I feel I need to help me deal with the grief now, are different than what I needed when I first began the journey. Back then I needed multiple boxes of tissues, encouraging notes, arms to hold me while my body shook from weeping, and someone to watch my son on the days when I just couldn’t get out of bed.

Now, I need reminders that my children are not forgotten, and snuggle sessions from my living children for the times when my arms ache for my babies in heaven. I need time to create beautiful things because life is beautiful, even if it can be filled with hard times. Now I need to experience moments of fierce flourishing, because my life is a gift just the lives of each of my children is a gift.

Oh sure, there are times when the tears come and I just need to sit alone for a while. The memories of bleeding out one baby, and holding another as she drifted into eternity will always remain as fresh as the day it happened. Yet now, after some time has passed, it’s easier to look back on those days and let gratitude trump all the other feelings. Gratitude because I was able to enjoy those little lives while they were within me. I will always miss them. I look forward to the day when I can be with them again and my tears will turn from that of mourning into relief and happiness because we are reunited at long last.

So friends, this will be my last monthly contribution for the PALS site, for the time being. Right now I need to allow myself to fully embrace the new way in which grief fits into my life. It’s hard to let go of some things, but I actually am eager to welcome in what is to come. It’s been an honor and a privilege to be able to share this journey with you.

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