The silence wraps itself around me me like a blanket on a cold day. Such a rare moment of tranquility is welcomed and I allow myself to feel the rise and fall of my own breathing. My breathes become slower and quieter and I feel my shoulders drop and my toes uncurl.
The clarity in my mind feels so surreal. I wait for it to cloud over and the normal block to come and freeze the letters from forming the words. But it doesn’t. My mind is abuzz with free flowing words and sentences. For the first time in a very long time, with a wary hand I reach for a pen and paper. The objects feels so foreign in my hand. The sensation of the point of the pen rolling across the paper forming the letters and words seems so unnatural. My hand shakes a bit at first as I form the first few letters but like a new born foe takings its first steps, my confidence grows as my hand starts freely moving across the page.
Maybe it has been long enough. Long enough for my mind and soul to heal. All of the thoughts and feelings that I have suppressed have had enough time to process. For so long they brewed and bubbled below that I was scared to them them surface. I became scared to feel anything, preventing myself from feeling any emotion. Numbing myself to the pain but the happiness at the same time. I could not allow myself to walk down that dreary, dark and dangerous path, so instead I forced myself to idly walk through a bland and bleak road of emptiness where I could see and feel nothing. I tethered in a world of grey and white, not allowing myself near the black but staying away from the colour.
It took a long time to get back here. There has been many times where I have sat with the silence and the silence was all I heard. No thoughts, no words, no stories. By allowing myself to live in a world of grey and white, my thoughts and emotions fused into my surroundings too. They became colourless and dull.
As the moment of silence is broken by the first drops of rain hitting the roof, it becomes a moment of reflection. My own grey rain clouds have shifted and I can see the rainbow.
My days are now filled with array of different shades from the spectrum. The blazing orange and pastels of pink from the sunrise, the cooling colours of the sunset to the black sheet of darkness that covers the sky at night with the silver stars, with the one star that shines brighter than the rest.
Miscarriage is something we just don’t talk about… It’s a journey that many of us take but often alone because we just don’t talk about it…
It took me 18 months of writer’s block but finally I try to…