One of my favorite style bloggers, Man Repeller's Leandra Medine, took a break from writing about clothes her husband hates in order to pen a heartbreaking essay about her recent miscarriage.
"Most mornings I wake up and wish I was still sleeping," she confessed. "I tried so hard to figure out why this happened to me, what I did to deserve it, whether I had made some unwitting deal with my deity that I would see professional success but personally, was destined to years of suffering. I take it back. Am I being punished? Tested? I don't know."
So gut-wrenching. And yet, sadly, so relatable for so many. I had a miscarriage at 10 weeks before becoming pregnant with my son, and it was a painful, dark time for me. I can't even imagine sharing my story in such a raw and honest way while still trying to cope with the loss. But Medine woke with a glimmer of hope the other day, found her voice, and decided to open up about her emotional journey.
"I'm not writing this for sympathy," she explained in the post. " I'm writing this because yesterday, I woke up feeling hopeful again. Bullishly ready, again, to start over. I got out of bed and shook my head. I closed my eyes and jumped for five minutes, shrieking at the top of my lungs every time I exhaled. I went to the kitchen to find my husband making toast. I hugged him, eyes welling, because I was too caught up in my extreme upset to appreciate his unwavering commitment to making me smile. I thanked him for collecting my bones when I couldn't stand up straight, for watching 26 episodes of Friends next to me, even with a splitting migraine on Thanksgiving day. For letting me say terrible, terrible things to myself. For allowing me to indulge that harsh voice in my head—for understanding that this voice is just trying to protect me. Even though it doesn't quite know how."
Beautiful words. And then, Medine says, she did something even more healing.
"I thanked my body for recovering," she explained. " I told us that it's okay to be sad. That we would get through this, that we're strong. I tried to give myself the advice that I would give to my own daughter. Or to my best friend. I congratulated my body for getting pregnant on its own. I commended it for holding a baby for 14 weeks. I assured it that together, we would hold another."
What an amazing message about self love! Even so, Medine admits that it's still sometimes a struggle.
"In some moments I'm strong and can almost feel a tiny finger tip clutching at my shoulder," she said. "In other moments, I am so weak that the best I can do is cancel every event on my calendar, hug my knees into my chest and close my eyes. But I'm also confident that with time—the greatest healer we know and have—the weak moments will get smaller and shorter. That when I say we'll have our baby, no matter what it takes, I'll genuinely believe it."