Sunday, June 15, 2014

Let It Go

I'm probably one of the few Americans that made it to May 2014 without hearing the Frozen song "Let it Go."  Maybe that comes from having a 4.5 year old boy.

The first time I heard this song was toward the end of my miscarriage as I was overseeing a student field trip to the movie Frozen at The Prytania Theater.

I wasn't looking for a theme song, but that song will forever be linked to this experience.  The day of the field trip was my first attempt at reentering my life.  I was really committed to the idea of holding it together after five days of falling apart.  Luckily the theater was dark when that song came on.

The song is emotional and the refrain just got to me.  For me, a miscarriage was like having something you thought was safe in your arms, ripped away from you.  But not all at once. Tentatively at first so that there was hope you might not have to let go, but then gradually more certainly, so that a happy fullness slowly, achingly, became a sad emptiness.

Let it go? I didn't want to let this pregnancy go.  I didn't want to have a miscarriage.  I didn't want to NOT be pregnant.  When I first heard the song, I was wanting everything that was happening in my body to stop.  And I felt like I was on an emotional roller coaster that I wanted off of.

I pulled the song up on YouTube a week or so later and it brought on wracking, head on the table, sobs that left both me and Jacob feeling like, "Damn, but I thought you were doing better?!"

In an effort to disassociate the song from my sadness, I let Cora sit with me and watch some Frozen songs as we are just letting her watch TV for the first time.  She was spell-bound with rapt attention and I found her later that day singing "Eh-ih-go, eh-ih-go, eh-ih-go."  That helped.

But now what I'm wondering is when/how/should I let this experience go?  I've had the kindest friends who've shared their own miscarriage experiences with me.  I've seen them move on and be happy and so I feel confident that will be my experience too.  And for the vast part of my days, I do feel normal and happy.  But the sadness is still there and part of me can't/doesn't know how to let it go completely.


Amanda said...

Courtney you described it perfectly. Hugs and prayers to you.

Leslie B. Gubitz said...

Always here for you. I'm so sad you have to endure this. Love you.