the Epiphany, 7 years out.

   I've always been an 'uncomfortable in the limelight' kind of gal.  I'm more of a 'behind the camera' rather than 'in front of the camera' kind of person. And I'm a caregiver.  It's my nature, it's who I am.
   The night that Emily was born, there was a sugar packet on my supper tray (and in those days, there were inspirational quotes printed on the sugar packets). The quote of the day read: "If you don't get what you want, think about the things that you didn't want that you didn't get"
   That became ingrained in me.  Any time we encountered an obstacle, I would think "It could be worse."  I learned the phrase  "At least it's not...." and I would imagine a worse case scenario and make myself grateful that it wasn't my experience.  I looked at the cup half full instead of the cup half empty. 
   About 4 months after Emily died, I went to grief group and looked around to find others who were worse off than I was.  I met a couple whose son had died several years earlier and they were stuck in their grief.  I heard others trumping each other's experiences.  I certainly didn't want to become like that. So I piously downplayed my grief and brushed off offers for help.  
   As a nurse in the OB department,  I've helped many parents bring a new baby into their family, most of them alive and healthy.  I have also helped parents whose babies have died.  If I've heard the question "how do you deal with your grief so well?" once, I've heard it a hundred times.  I took pride in being strong.
  Last year, I became certified in perinatal loss care. During the study for this certification, I learned alot about loss and grief and came to understand myself  better.  This year, I am involved in setting up a Perinatal Hospice Program in our hospital.  I decided that I'd better make sure that I personally was in a solid place before I tried to counsel other parents in their grief journey. 
  I joined a 6-week grief group.  The epiphany started in session number two.   I accepted that it is OK, 7 years later,  for me to still grieve.  I can be "selfish" (that's the way I viewed it) and take care of myself, too.
   In the third week, the epiphany continued.  I have been through some SHIT! (sorry for that word, but I can't seem to find anything else that fits how I feel right now)  I wonder how I can be such a good caregiver to everyone else, but not to myself? Even the Word tell us to "Love thy neighbor AS, JUST LIKE, you love yourself." 
   Here's another thing I learned in group: BALANCE.  Everything in balance.  Certainly, I'm not going to run around having a pity party for myself, or go around being publically morose and draw attention to myself at inappropriate times.  But I am going to honor my own story.  I am going to acknowledge that even though there are other people out there with worse shit than mine,  I HAVE BEEN THROUGH SOME SHIT, some really bad shit.  And I am going to be kind to myself.