I feel compelled to express my sincerest apologies to everyone in my life. To all my friends and family who have had to endure my presence since the heartbreaking loss of my daughter last year, I want you to know how much I appreciate your support. The profound grief I carry has transformed me into a less-than-stellar friend, and I am fully aware of it. Many days, I remain enveloped in sadness over the loss of Emma. Even on days when I seem to be coping, I often find myself mentioning her, as if she were still with us. I realize this can create discomfort.
The nature of our loss, which I frequently discuss, tends to make people uneasy. I know that most of you don’t want to hear about my advocacy efforts all the time. I can be exhausting to be around. I oscillate between feeling despondent, pretending to be happy, and endlessly discussing topics that may not interest you. My life has become consumed by the memory of my infant daughter and the twin sister we lost. I’ve thrown myself into political activism, researching legislation, penning blogs and articles, and contacting my representatives. I’ve become someone I used to overlook.
I recognize that I don’t inquire about your lives nearly as much as I should. In my mind, I sometimes engage in what I call the “pain Olympics,” even though I know it’s not fair. You’re facing challenges? Well, I lost my child. That mentality is absurd, and I realize it. You know it, too. Deep down, I genuinely care about what you are going through, and I hope you can see that.
However, I also don’t feel remorseful for my transformation. The journey of infertility that my partner and I endured, followed by a loss that many cannot fathom, has irrevocably altered me. The very essence of who I am is unrecognizable from just over a year ago. The trauma of being told that both of my children could perish if I didn’t take action is something that shapes you. You make choices, and those choices follow you for life—there’s no room for regrets, even as you carry one healthy child and one who is no longer with us, desperately trying to navigate each hour without breaking down completely.
In the wake of my experiences, I have become more self-absorbed, and for that, I truly apologize. I long for us to re-establish a balanced relationship where we can engage with one another. Please share your challenges, victories, vacations, and yes, even the quirky antics of your cat. I also ask for your patience as I share my thoughts about the current legislation I’m passionate about, the fears I have about parenting, and the ridiculous things my dog has done lately.
I cherish you all. I miss our connections, and I promise to make a more concerted effort to be present in your lives.
For those seeking more information on pregnancy and home insemination, this is an excellent resource: WomensHealth.gov. Also, if you’re interested in exploring options like at-home insemination, check out this post. You can also read additional insights on this topic at Modern Family Blog.
In summary, the journey through grief has reshaped my friendships, but I am committed to reconnecting and supporting each other through life’s ups and downs.