Saturday, February 23, 2013

Why I love Daffodils

Disclaimer: I've been wrestling with myself about whether to post this. I wrote it a while ago and it feels really personal and strange to publish something like this to the internet, but I've been reading a lot recently about honesty and the importance of being authentic in our interactions with others. Authenticity can strengthen our relationships and connect us in more meaningful ways than when we put on a front and try to appear to have it all together. So here I am...being authentic for the world to see. {Okay, more like for my mom to see...}

I think everyone can agree that February is the worst. It's like, alright, Winter, you've served your purpose. Christmas was pretty. We made some snow angels. Let's get on with the warm weather and sunshine now.

Three years ago, February got even worse for me. On February 21, 2010, my first pregnancy ended in a miscarriage. I was 11 weeks pregnant and had been told three weeks prior that the baby had not grown and they couldn't find a heartbeat. Jason and I were both in our final semester of grad school at the time, which meant we were forced to grieve through one of the busiest, most stressful times in our married life. I was in a fairly dark place then and now, every February, those emotions tend to creep back up and make this time of year challenging, on top of those already-present winter blahs.

Hopefully it goes without saying how incredibly grateful I am to have a beautiful, healthy toddler and another, so far, healthy pregnancy. But I still grieve the loss of my baby. Each one is unique and special and, even though we were pregnant with Gehrig not too long after, my heart will forever feel the gap of the child we never got to meet. The gray February sky tends to remind me of that more than anything.

Image Source
One of the only things to provide light at the end of that dark, snowy tunnel three years ago was the prospect of Spring. Sunlight, green grass, warm breezes, and the ability to get outside seemed like the perfect escape; a new start, just what Spring really is: the promise of new life. As I was leaving one of my last grad classes, I saw the first sign that Spring was near: a cluster of Daffodils. It was like I had been seeing the world in black and white and all of a sudden, a bright beam of yellow burst through to remind me to hope. Cheesy enough for you? Good.

Bottom line: I'm really ready for Spring. I need some color in my life and in my mood. Here's hoping it's right around the corner!

{And thanks for letting me be authentic today.}

8 comments:

  1. hey, you girl. i'm a blog reader too. lest you forget you have an audience. and an experienced blog reader audience at that. just love you.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Love you too, dearest! Always and forevs.

      Delete
  2. This comment has been removed by the author.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Brenna-my-Brenna, My heart is full. I'm so proud of your writing and of the awesome parents that you and Jason are. However I've decided to send my original comment to you in a personal note. Love you chickabee, Mom

      Delete
  3. Thanks for sharing this Brenna. I love that you decided to put your grief out there, so many people can relate. Proud of my sister!

    ReplyDelete
  4. Daffodils, Wordsworth. You in good literary comp'ny.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I sadly didn't make that connection, but what a lovely allusion. I do love that poem. Thanks, sista.

      Delete