Feb 13, 2017

I'm Not Okay

...and that's okay. Here, let me explain.

You will see my smiling selfies.
You will hear me laughing with your family.
You will see me dancing with your kids.
You will see the highlights on social media.

But you won't see the tears that come flooding in at bedtime.

You will see my encouraging words typed in response to your troubling times.
You will watch me take on each and every day.
You will see me smile when you walk in the door.
You will feel me grip your hand to stop your pain.

But you won't see me screaming at my husband because I don't know how to control my rage.

You will see me baking goodies.
You will watch me pour myself into projects.
You will watch me graciously turn away details about our future with (or without) a baby.
You will hear me pour my heart out and say everything is alright.

But you won't see me clenching my fists until my nails make my palms bleed.

You will see me posting funny and adorable photos of my bulldog.
You will watch me poke fun at myself.
You will hear joy in my voice.
You will reconnect with me soon, if not already.

But you won't see the evil texts I send my husband because he doesn't understand that I need a hug in lieu of a solution.

You won't see me taking out the hard times on him behind closed doors.
You won't see the struggle this miscarriage has placed on our marriage.
You won't see the sadness.
You won't see the worry.

For every hundred good moments in every week, there is always something that triggers my sadness.
There is always something that makes me re-hash the day my baby left me.
And I push all those thoughts way down, deep in my gut, trying to hide them.
Because they are so very ugly.

A lot of times I don't even realize it's happening.
But my husband is so smart and picks up on it right away.
And he remembers every time.
I have to sit down and have him re-tell me just how often the anger wins.
Because the anger is blinding.

I'm not okay.
Not fully.
Not yet.

And that's okay.

Far too often I am neglecting my own feelings.
Far too often I am trying to fit back into the social norm that seems acceptable.
Far too often I am risking my marriage just so Mark and I don't have to keep talking about it.
Far too often I am still sad but don't realize it.
Far too often I am mad, because I'm still sad, and then all the suppressed emotions come bubbling to the surface and explode in a fit of uncontrollable rage.

Far too often.

There is absolutely no excuse for the hurt I am causing him because of these blow-ups.
But I am human.
And I am dealing with something I have never dealt with before.
And it's ugly.
And raw.
(and I do apologize, profusely, after my mind is functioning again.)

You will likely never see the dark path we sometimes lead behind closed doors.
But we are walking it.
It's a constant balance of treading too lightly, suppressing thoughts as they come up, and not letting this consume our lives.

I'm not okay.

But I know it's okay to not be okay with this.
It's okay to not pretend like it didn't happen.
It's okay to be vulnerable.
It's okay to argue.

I'm not okay.
But I will be.
Every day is another day to make it the best one I can make.
Every day is another opportunity to triumph where I failed before.

I keep trying to get to a point where talking about the miscarriage doesn't cause anger and sadness a couple days afterward, but to be honest, it might never be that way.
So I will keep working towards accepting that part too.

I'm not okay, but I will be.

Thank you for reading. XO


  1. Hang in there friend, and I'm here for you whether you're happy sad mad - anything! xoxo

  2. Grief is unpredictable at best...crippling at worst. It's been hard for me to get over my need to "suck it up" and handle it all on my own and reach out for help, but it's the best thing I ever did. Whether that's friends, family, or professionals...reach out a hand. There are no prizes for keeping it all inside. Thinking of you as you walk this path.

  3. Reading this is heartbreaking knowing that there is not a magic wish that can make the pain for you both to go away. I'm so sorry, Tia and Mark. May you both find your way out of this darkness, hand in hand and stronger than before. Please let me know if there is anything I can do.

  4. Grief is a bitch. We are still walking it out and still having blow ups and apologize and hard, dark conversations. Love you friend. Praying for you and your marriage as you mourn. I thought I would be sad. I didn't think I would be so angry. I totally sympathize with you in this.

  5. Friend, treasure the friends who see that you are still hurting and treat you with great care, even when it appears you are back to business as usual. I call them my noticers. There is so little good to come out of such a great loss, but for me, learning who these people are was the most important.