Thursday, October 24, 2013

Bubbling Up

Bubbling Up

It bubbles up out of  no where. Like a geyser that doesn't' have a regular schedule. Seemingly out of nowhere the bubbles start to rise and the pressure builds until it can't not be contained and the water bursts forth. This grief, this pain, it's not something that can be controlled. It's not something that can be put into nice and need stages that you move through one at a time and move one. It's constant while at the same time being fading, ebbing and flowing. I son't always know what will prompt it, sometimes it seems silly but it's not mine to control. This grief is it's own entity and it comes and goes as it pleases leaving me in it's wake.

It's hard to explain to others, even the ones I love, how I can't control the bubbling up, it just comes. I heard of a women (friend of a friend) who was pregnant and in the hospital, not any hospital. my hospital. Where my nightmare took place. I know nothing of her problems or fate, it could have been a sprained ankle and have nothing to do with the baby. All I heard was pregnant and hospital and the geyser of grief stats bubbling up.

It could be something even more begin, like a pair of pants that don't fit. The result of having a post baby belly without the benefit of having a nursing baby to burn the calories. Sometimes it comes with no promoting at all, just bubbling up and choking me of the air I need.

The biggest causality is more poor husband. He doesn't see it, he doesn't know to look for it or what will prompt it. He's slow to pick up on the clues that the bubbles are starting to rise. I don't know how to help him see them, when I don't always see them myself. Grief is a strange bedfellow in a marriage, it can make it or break it, to be cliche. I know it has made mine stronger initially but I fear that the bubbling geyser that cannot be controlled will threaten that stability in the future. When it's felt that I should be able to control the geyser, or at least see it coming.

I hope that's not the case.

The bubbles the pressure, like a natural body of water cannot be controlled. It's a natural force that moves at it's own will and pray nightly for a deeper understanding and appreciation of it, but never control. I have learned that I am not in control, and never will be. I can only hope to ride the bubbles, let them lift me up instead of choking me and bringing me down and pray that we all can be better geyser predictors.

I found this in a drafts folder, I don't think I published it before. It was written after my first miscarriage but as I am struggling through some darker PPD flare ups lately it seems so appropriate and so dual purposed I wanted to share, as similar words could be written about depression and dark clouds. 

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