Bittersweet

Embarking on my Churchill Fellowship this week has provided an opportunity for reflection.  I am truly excited to be starting this trip, but the experience is very bittersweet.  While I’m off on an adventure to explore in-hospital volunteer programs supporting families experiencing pregnancy loss, I’m also leaving my husband Daniel behind for 9 weeks.

We have been together for 30 years this year and have only ever been apart for a few weeks at the most.  Daniel is not just my husband; he’s my best friend, my confidant, my number one supporter. 

I more or less kept it together in the week leading up to my departure, but at Canberra Airport, the prospect of nine weeks apart became pretty overwhelming.

Thanks to the kindness of strangers, I had it all back under control again once we landed in Melbourne.  But on the trip from Melbourne to Manchester, I made the mistake of watching the movie A Man Named Otto.  It’s an excellent movie and I highly recommend watching it, but only if you’re emotionally ready for it (and perhaps not when you’ve just left the love of your life behind for a few months).  My apologies to my fellow passengers for the lack of tissues in the bathroom. 

So yes, this amazing trip is bittersweet.

“Bittersweet” has been the resounding theme of our pregnancy losses and my subsequent advocacy work.

There is an exquisite beauty in pregnancy and bearing children, even when those children are lost. 

It is a pleasure to remember our babies, even though it also holds the greatest, infinite sadness.

My achievements in the pregnancy loss space bring a quiet pride and happiness, but this is always in the context of remembering all the babies who have been lost, and the brave families who have shared their stories with me.

In working to heal from pregnancy loss and helping others through their own experiences, I have realised how important it is to feel all the feelings; to sit with them and let them exist in all their joy or sadness.  I have also realised that no experience is ever full of just one emotion.  Happy experiences can be tinged with sadness, while life’s worst experiences can also contain joy and even humour.

It seems right that this Fellowship provokes those same bittersweet, conflicting feelings, even at the outset.  I have no doubt this will continue as I meet professionals, volunteers, parents and families over the next nine weeks.  I’m ready and determined to embrace all the feelings, and to learn all I can.