Those of you who follow me (whether it’s here on Missing Link, on my Instagram account, or on my Facebook pages), have probably noticed: I’ve got a case of Writer’s Block. I have found an incredible amount of support and “healing” through these platforms. This blog is an outlet. Instagram and Facebook have given me a way to connect with other loss moms who understand my pain more than those who were already in my life before. I never understood connecting with people outside of my own little world. I only followed those I knew personally. But here I am, finding friends in women all around the world. I am grateful for these connections. I feel so much less alone. And I am honored to provide that feeling for others as well.
But right now, I’m out of words. It takes a lot of effort: positivity, self-care, self-reflection, life. I have been feeling burned out. I have had too much to say. I haven’t been able to organize my thoughts, and my feelings. As December approached, I felt heavier and heavier. I expected that the first would arrive, and I would instantly be depressed. This hasn’t been the case. I have surprised myself. I planned to skip Christmas….but our tree is up, with Lincoln’s ornaments front and center. I baked Christmas cookies. I listened to Christmas music. I smiled and stared up at the sky, enjoying the first snow. I am feeling joy like I haven’t in quite some time. I am feeling a little more like myself. And I am too busy living.
Don’t get me wrong, I still want to write. I still want to share Lincoln’s story. I still want him to touch people and to help people. But I want to write as I feel inspired to do so. As my life changes and evolves, I will uncover new things to share with you all. Right now, I will share this: Don’t be afraid to live. Our babies are beautiful. Their lives are meaningful. They have given us a whole new sense of purpose. They chose us to be their mothers. And they would want us to live, and to feel joy: to dream of a better future. They wouldn’t want us to live a life of fear, just waiting for the next bad thing to happen. There is this deep-rooted fear: if I am happy, people will think I have forgotten him. And then they will forget him. This is just not the case. I will always remember Lincoln. I will always love him. I will always share him. I will continue to find ways to honor him in the things that I do. I will honor him by living life fully. I will honor him by finding beauty in the little things. I will honor him by taking a break when I need to take a break. I will build a better life, and I will make him proud.
I promise you will still hear from me. I have so many things to share. But right now, I just want to live.