If you know me in real life and have found this blog, please honour my wishes and don't read on. I need this place to freely write my feelings to help me to heal and if you're reading, I'll censor myself. I have no way of knowing who is reading so all I can do is trust you to honour my wishes. Thank you.

(this doesn't apply to any of my fellow mums of angels I've been lucky enough to meet in real life)

Friday, March 19, 2010

Meditation Class

I went to a meditation class with a friend on Thursday night. It was good and I think I'll make it a regular thing. The first thing we had to do though was contemplate the past 12 months and how it's changed us. I had to take a fair few deep breaths to get through this without breaking down and keeping the tears to a manageable amount running down my cheeks. I wish I could say the last 12 months has changed me in only positive ways and now I appreciate every minute of my life because I know how fragile it is. But I'm not there and not sure if I ever will be.

I've changed in the following ways:
* My innocence around pregnancy and childbirth is gone
* I don't have a lot to give to my friends anymore
* Instead of books I'm reading on my bedside table, I now have an urn of my babies ashes.
* I've gone from extremely extroverted to extremely introverted
* I'm much more cautious and worry much more about things happening to those I love
* I'm much more aware of all the heartbreak there is out there around having babies
* I'm more protective of myself and my time. If I don't want to go to whatever it is, I'll just say no

I know all of these changes won't be permanent but some of them are here to stay.

We did another meditation where we focused on the parts of our bodies. As we went through this, she made a comment that grief is held in our lungs. I wonder if this is why so many of us have anxiety attacks that seem to play out as trouble breathing?

We did a card reading where we all took a card and tried to interpret it for ourselves. I pulled out 'Self-discipline'. When I looked at it, I thought 'why should I have to be self-disciplined while I have to learn to live with Matilda dying'. So when it was my turn to interpret I said I couldn't really see it as something applying to me at the moment. Enhsa said that sometimes self-discipline can mean the discipline of giving ourselves a break and maybe I should start with random acts of kindness to myself. Well that sounded much better and I've decided to start trying to find some happiness again without the guilt that normally accompanies it. Whether this is possible yet, I'm not sure. But I can try.


  1. I hope you can find some happiness soon. It seems like happiness will never be like it once was, but you are right. It's good to try to find it. Thinking of you!

  2. i am pleased you have found something that is assisting you get through the pain Maddie... well not get through but certainly understand it better.

  3. The class sounds really interesting. I hope you continue to get a lot out of it.