heartbreak

Please forgive me, but today is a hard day.

I have debated on whether to write or not about this. It's not really a topic some would find appropriate for blogland..... maybe more appropriate for a therapist. But what if I can say something that you can identify with, maybe you have been through this same thing? What if you have felt this sort of pain?

I write because it is what I do. It's who I am, it's how I express myself. I write because we are all in this together, in reality.

As I look back on my 2008 season I am proud of what I accomplished. I overcame many things and I kept my spirit high. I fought through a lot. I endured a lot. I also encountered the heartbreak of my life. It's taken me almost 3 months to come to terms with it, and I can't even say that I have come to terms with it. It's been hard on my heart. Hard on my mind.

Two days after Ironman Lake Placid I learned that I was pregnant. Yeah, I was just as shocked as you are.

8.5 weeks to be exact.

Surprise and happiness were very short lived as we soon determined this pregnancy wasn't viable. We had to end it on July 31st which was absolutely, unequivocally the worst and most painful day of my whole entire life.

As I thought back on the previous eight weeks, so many things had made sense that I had simply overlooked. The way I felt. Missing periods. But honestly sometimes that rolls into Ironman training.

I remembered how horrible and flat I felt at Quakerman. How tired I was at camp.

And I was horrified that I had done all of this training, all of this to my body while I was carrying a child. Training was not the reason this pregnancy wasn't going to make it. But I will always wonder.

How could I not know I was that far along?

Well, now for the second time in my life I have made it possible for birth control to say that it is 99% effective. Plus with my history periods aren't always regular. Ironman training makes you tired. Sure I was more tired than normal but ..... I had done 2 IM's in a year.

The guilt, the horror, the pain and the heartbreak were so overwhelming. They still are. The only one who can even possibly understand what this has felt like.... is me. I have shared with some, some of you. Sometimes it is just about letting it out. You can only carry around so much pain. But it's been like a weight I carry all alone. All by myself.

I layed on the couch and stared at the ceiling for almost 2 weeks during that time. All I could do was cry. My training, moving is what has helped me the most. It goes back to what I was talking about the other day. Moving.... exercise has "proven physiological benefits". It gave me fresh air. It gave me a place to be. It gave me a place to cry because in all honesty...... crying is what helps in times like these.

I can't erase it. I can't erase the pain. Some days are good days. Other days.... the days when I think..... what if..... what if..... what if...... who was this little person...... what would they have been like...... those are the days that rip me up. That pull my heart right through my body and throw it on the ground.

The physical pain of the whole experience was shattering. And as shattering as that was it was pale in comparison to the pain I carry around right now in my heart.

That was why I was so intent on going to Texas, despite having crashed my bike. Despite all I have been through. I needed a get away. I needed the sun. I needed to be with friends. I needed a starting line, I needed a finish line. Every step along the way I thought about the baby I lost. A girl.... a boy...... who they could have been and what they could have been. What I could have done differently.... and while they tell me there was nothing..... I will always wonder.

In many ways it was therapeutic for me to go to Texas. In all honesty I just wanted to pull the covers over my head and cry myself to death. It was actually in all honesty the one and only time in my life where I thought..... I wish I was dead.

Then, my seven year old little boy came up to me on the last day that I was on the couch. He asked me if I wanted to shoot hoops with him outside. I said yes, primarily because I felt so guilty for what he had been witnessing, and for trying so hard to keep it all in.

We went outside and we shot hoops. For over an hour. I don't think we said anything. But every time we made baskets we'd high five.

Of every single person in my life, Luc is who helped me the most through this painful experience. He didn't say anything magical, and while he didn't know what was going on.... he knew something was wrong. He got me outside, and he got me moving. He couldn't say anything to take away the pain and the heartache and the feeling of sadness. He couldn't do one single thing.

But be there. Spend time with me. Enjoy the moment. Be a family. And I coudln't allow the pain I was feeling, am feeling..... to cause me to overlook the one most magical thing I have right in front of me. My son.

I learned that you don't always have to say something to help someone through a tragedy. You can send flowers and say words...... but nothing replaces hugs. Nothing replaces time spent with someone you love.

They say this kid has problems. They are trying to tell me he is learning disabled.

I think this is a kid who lives from his heart. I think this is a kid who knows how to live authentically. I think this is a kid who knows the true meaning of love.

Love, that's what is ultimately going to heal this pain.