Balance

I've been trying to find a balance. A balance between my grief journey and healing. There are days I'm hopeful. Days where I embrace my new found neonatal education. Relish in being a support system for other BLM's. Unfortunatly I find I have more days of  panic, spontaneous tears, regrets and mind numbing flashbacks.
I'm suddenly surrounded by pregnant women. I realize their happieness has no bearing on my situation or future. My husband reminds me that there is no quota of babies being born. It's not like someone stole mine.
It feels like being put in a time out, watching everyone else around you have fun. When is my time out over?

I'm not going to let go of the past. I chose to hang on to it. I just need to view it differently. With less nightmares, tears and fears. They ain't kidding when they say such trauma like this really does alter a person.
My being is different, my marriage is different, my world is different. Different doesn't mean bad. Different means ...different.

Don't cry too long. Don't go too long without crying. Don't stare too long at the baby's picture. Don't go too long without looking. Thinking back to when you were pregnant. Thinking of when you'll be pregnant again. Go to work. Function normally. Despite everything you feel crumbling inside.
It's tiring being sad. It's tiring trying to be strong. It's tiring fighting everyday for something I want so badly.

Trying to find the balance.