Moving forward from loss & why I stopped blogging

When I first started my blog last December, I made myself two promises. Consistency and enjoyment.

First, consistency and quality were my two focuses. As long as I could publish one quality blog post regularly every week I would be happy. I’d love to have the time for multiple posts a week, but let’s be real. I am a new blogger and a mom of two young boys who has not figured out how to add an extra three hours to my day.

Second, enjoyment. I have always wanted to start food blog. I love cooking, creating recipes, and writing. Plus, I strongly believe in the power that food and community hold in our lives and well-being. Starting a blog seemed like the obvious result. Although food blogging takes loads of time and there is much to learn, I have loved every minute of it. I promised myself that if I ever stopped enjoying the process, I would take a step back for a bit.

You may or may not have noticed that I have been MIA for a few months. I needed to take step back.

Sometime during the second week of August, I found out I was pregnant with baby #3. Our family was ecstatic. Obviously, it was way too early to know the gender, but we had our money on a third boy. At five boys and counting (including my nephews), I don’t think our family knows how to make girls.

Like clockwork, the morning sickness kicked in at 5 weeks as it had with my first two pregnancies. YIPEE for consistency. NOT! Oh, and this nonsense name of “morning sickness” is a joke. It needs to be changed to “nausea all day long and all-night long sickness.”

Overnight my love for cooking, eating, and smelling anything resembling food disappeared. Coffee, bleh! Meat, bleh! Pizza, bleh! I retired from the kitchen and procured every take-out menu possible.

How could I keep writing my food blog without making everyone else anti-food as well? Obviously, I couldn’t so I took a step back. I took that break I promised myself.

Six weeks later everything changed. My husband and I walked into my regularly scheduled appointment with my OBGyn joking and fearing nothing. I was 11 weeks.  After starting the ultrasound, we heard the words that no one wants to hear. The baby had no heartbeat.

The loss felt like Andre the Giant had kicked me in the chest. I couldn’t breathe. At eleven weeks along, I still felt pregnant. I still had horrible morning sickness. My lower back still felt tight. My body was still doing what it needed to, but the life inside me was gone.

How? Why? What had I done wrong? Four weeks later and these questions still go through my mind. My doctor has reassured me that it was nothing I had done. It was a chromosomal abnormality. The baby wasn’t healthy. These things happen.

For a while all I heard was, “blah blah blah, your baby died.” Time has passed and the logical side of me understands why this happened, but my emotional side hasn’t let it go. My heart still aches for the baby I will never hold or kiss or introduce to his two older brothers.

Life was challenging. All I wanted to do was snuggle with my two boys and my husband. Once again, even contemplating my food blog was out of the question.

Through the loss and sadness has come many blessings. I have realized how many people I have in my life that care for us. The countless simple things people did for us out of compassion and concern were astounding.

Many reached out to us in prayer. The mother of a dear friend of mine gave me a prayer card with this simple yet powerful prayer.

I said a prayer for you today

 I said a prayer for you today and know God must have heard

I felt the answer in my heart although he spoke not a word.

I didn’t ask for wealth or fame (I know you wouldn’t mind).

I asked for priceless treasures of a more lasting kind.

I prayed that he be near you at the start of each new day.

To grant your health and blessing fair and friends to share your way.

I asked for happiness for you in all things great and small,

But that you’d know his lasting care I prayed most of all.

As time passes, the grief is fading away. Time heals. Prayer heals. Love heals. This is how we have coped over the weeks and this how we wake up smiling most days knowing that we will hopefully have another chance for that next child. For now, I hug my boys as often as possible and thank God for what He has given me.

We will never forget our baby who is now up in Heaven. He is our little angel baby held in our hearts forever.

Although my journey back to my blog has been slow and will continue to be so, I am feeling drawn back to it.  Food is powerful and healing, both physically and emotionally.  For me cooking is therapeutic, bringing a sense of peace and positivity into my days. I will be back, and I look forward to you joining me.

If you have made it this far, thank you for joining me and for sharing in my experiences. My purpose wasn’t to sadden you or any reader; rather, I wanted to connect with you. I wanted to connect with those who have shared a similar experience or know someone who has. Also, to ask for prayers for all those pregnant and those who have lost a child, whether born or unborn.

Thank you, once again, from the bottom of my heart, Ashley.