Tuesday, March 5, 2013

Body Talk

Healing is interesting.  It can happen anywhere, any place, and at any time, if you are receptive to it.  Healing is more about being ready for it, open to the possibility that things could be different, things could be better.  I had a healing moment in the car this morning with my body on the way to work.  My body, talked to my soul. And my soul listened and answered.  They made up; they started their journey back to each other.  The conversation went something like this:

Ms. Body: Lindsey.  I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean for this to happen.  I miss you, can we talk.

Ms. Soul:  I miss you too Ms. Body.  I know it’s not your fault.  I’m ready.  I’m ready to move forward, to move forward together.  I can’t do this alone and I needed you.

Ms. Body:  Oh, Lindsey, I need you too.  I am sad and I miss her too.  Lindsey, I loved her just as deeply as you did. I created her.  She was made up of my cells, my energy.  Her not being here makes my heart weep.  But I swear, I did everything I could to protect her.  She was my greatest piece of artwork.  She was a master piece.  I would give anything to have her back. 

Ms. Soul: I know.  I know.  I just needed a place to put my anger and my disappointment.  Often times, it’s easier to blame you or me then to accept that there is no reason.  There is no one to blame.  I am just trying to make sense of it all, because at times I feel lost and hopeless.

Ms. Body:  I feel the same way.  It’s difficult to go through everyday, knowing she will never be.  But, I need you Ms. Soul, I need you to help me get through this.  We need to grieve together, as one again.  It is not your time to leave me yet.  I can’t be a body on this earth without you.  We need to walk together for a time longer.

Ms. Soul:  I miss walking with you, in sync, holding hands, and being as one.  Ms. Body, our marriage has not ended.  It will go on.  I would say I forgive you Ms. Body, but the truth is there is nothing to forgive.  You did everything you could, you were attacked, blindsided.  It is no more your fault than it is mine.

Ms. Body:  Oh, Lindsey, thank you, thank you.

Ms. Soul:  No, thank you Lindsey, for not giving up on me and for being there for me during the good and the bad.  Thank you for always supporting me and providing me with a healthy vessel to experience this life in.  Thank you for being in this life with me, as my forever companion, for now and for always. 

Ms. Body:  For Always?

Ms. Soul:   For Always.      


  1. Hi Lindsey, I (unfortunately) found your site on the Sisterhood blogroll. We lost our son (our first child) on December 17, 2012 at a day short of 39 weeks. His umbilical cord was wrapped tightly around his neck, twice. I read your story and cried because it took me back to that day. I already know you know you're not alone in this, so I'll just say that although I don't know you, I hope each day you find comfort and joy. I'll be following your blog and your project.

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  3. Hi Tara,

    I am so sorry for the loss of your son. What is his name? Thank you for reaching out to me and letting me know I am not alone. Unfortunately, it feels like we have been initiated into an underground, but very loving club, of bereaved moms. A club we never wanted to be a part of. Thanks for following my blog and if you ever need some support just reach out and let me know. I have found talking to other moms really helpful. I even have a pen pal that I recently met due to the loss of Nora.


    Still Breathing...Lindsey

  4. You are so right...initiated into a club, one no one ever wants to be a member of. Our son's name is Rowan. I read somewhere that babyloss mothers have "playmates in Heaven"; perhaps Ro and Nora fit that description. It's always comforting for me to think it is so. I, too, find support from other moms quite healing.
    I read your post from today about the nursery. Ours was never put together because my husband was deployed (he's in the Navy); it wasn't something I could do by myself. But we still have all of Ro's things. His dresser full of carefully laundered clothes is in the hallway; the rest of the baby stuff is all throughout the house. The stroller is still in the kitchen. I cannot bear to put it away, or the dresser.
    Still breathing, but sometimes it's overwhelming.


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