Grief Is Not Something You Get Over but Rather Something You Learn to Carry More Gracefully

“You can still grieve and hold space for joy.”

The Before

I sit curled up on my bed in my cool basement apartment and the noise from the busy street outside echoes in my open window. It’s late afternoon and warm outside and my skin is hot and a new golden brown from spending so much time outside walking Baker. Today I took him to a park and practiced presence while proudly watching him explore the cold lapping waters edge at a nearby park. The joy stretched across his face was infectious and those final hours make what I’m about to endure worth it.

I still want to be outside soaking in the last few rays, watching my puppy discover new things but I’m tired. So very tired. I realize it’s the grief washing over me as I count down the hours until I begin prepping for my surgery. Today is Sunday, Tuesday is the day.

I wipe away the tears as I think about what this surgery means and how many times various doctors over the last sixteen years have hinted I should start to consider having it. Like a broken record each time, I wipe away their concerns with a well-practiced response, “Forty. I’ll decide when I turn forty.” My throat hurts from crying but I can’t stop. I must let myself feel the sadness wash over me as I finally close this very long chapter. This at times, beyond a heartbreaking chapter.

Over the years I’ve wondered what life would have been like if that surgery sixteen years ago would have gone as planned. If that tiny hole the size of the tip of a ball point pen hadn’t been missed. I wonder what life would have looked like had I never gotten an infection that nearly took my life but did take something else away. Would I maybe have a toe-head kid with springing curls and big blue eyes and a nose peppered with the trademark deep brown “Whitworth” freckles both my younger brother and I had as kids playing in the grass on a hot summer day? Or was that never meant to be mine in the first place? Was I never meant to be a mom? I’ve given myself permission to go to that place of curiosity so many times before and it’s a strange feeling that in just a few short days I’ll never again be able to wonder if just maybe there is still a chance.

I’ve grieved this all before, many times. I grieved when my ex-husband and I tried for two years and even went through fertility treatment to no avail. I grieved when I sat before the radiation oncologist and she told me my cancer treatment would more then likely send me into early menopause. And I’ve grieved the many times a woman with a big round belly full of budding life has walked by me and the quiet voice deep within that whispers, “that’ll never be you.”

Oh how I have grieved.

And it’s ok to grieve about this because as women, this is what we are taught to want from the time we can remember. I used to wrap my dolls in blankets and protect them fiercely from any oncoming threats as any mother would. Cooing and singing to them I had a list of names for all those unborn children. I prepared my whole childhood for something that in reality, I would never experience. Although I’ve spent a significant amount of time over the last few years asking myself if that was really a dream I truly wanted or just one that I was told to want, it’s still ok to grieve it even if it wasn’t.

I know this grief well. I’ve sat with her so many times over the years. Today though, she looks different.

Because I know it’s time. I promised myself when I turned forty. That’s when I would decided to do it. Maybe it was because my mom was forty-four when she was diagnosed with uterine cancer and her mom was young too and cancer takes time to grow. Maybe I just intuitively knew that it had to be forty.

I’ve worked really hard at looking at this decision through the lens of maturity and not through the one that says cancer is stealing from me once again. This decision doesn’t come on the heels of some medical disaster, it was my choice and sometimes it’s easier to decide in a disaster because then I got to be the victim. But I know now that my victim tendencies of the past have gotten me nowhere but a body full of rage and anger so palpable, I pushed a lot of people and opportunities away. I know I am no longer a woman who faces these things from that point of view. I’ve come too far to go back there now.

I’ve spend the better part of the last three years working on repressed disappointment, sadness and anger and have let go of a lot. I feel content deep within in a way I’ve never experienced before. In a way I still don’t have words to describe how I feel. I know, however, it may surface again. Old ways of doing things, old ways of feeling and I’m ready. I’m ready to meet myself differently. Meet myself with love. With acceptance. With my newer friend grace.

I’m committed to processing things as healthy as I possibly can and one of the things I’ve come to believe is that we are given the full spectrum of these magical feelings to experience them all fully. They are our greatest teachers. Our wise and at times, excruciatingly harsh elders. So when a few months ago they started speaking to me, that quiet voice deep within began whispering, I looked myself in the mirror and just nodded knowing that I would be able to handle it now.

It was time.

The After

It’s been six days since I had a total hysterectomy and surprisingly I feel really good. I had my uterus, ovaries, tubes and cervix removed. My trauma around routine surgeries told me these things go terribly wrong and I had a tremendous amount of anxiety prior to surgery. It’s been good for me to have such a smooth recovery. It has restore my faith in the medical world.

I remember waking from my surgery bracing myself for horrific pain, both emotional and physical, but all I felt was deep sense of peace as my eyes fluttered open and I saw my mom sitting quietly in the corner chair. I looked on at her and thought about all the pain she’s endured over the years from cancer and I’d be lying if I said a part of me didn’t do this for her too. Because I love her that much and it’s ok to do big things for those you love.

The choice I made means I get to eliminate two of the major cancers I statistically have a higher chance of getting and for a long time I couldn’t bring myself to do something because statistics told me to. However, after having two different Lynch Syndrome cancer and one very scary unknown tumor in my groin in the past fifteen years, I decided. It was time to live instead of continue to be consumed by the fear and anxiety that comes with the statistics.

I’ve been through a lot with my health in these short thirty-nine years and I’ve spent the better part of the last two years watching my mom fight for her life knowing that I had an opportunity to spare myself from some of what I was witnessing if I just made this decision.

I could only do it when I was truly ready though and honestly, I had no idea when that would be. Forty was really just a number I told myself knowing I could change it if I wanted to. Any moment sooner, instead of being filled with peace I would have been filled with regret. I know that about myself. I would have felt forced into doing something I wasn’t ready for. I learned that lesson the hard way many times before. This decision was all mine and could not be influenced by what other’s thought was best for me.

Although I had always promised myself forty, I knew I would be okay waiting longer if I needed to. But a few months ago something inside of me started thinking about it more seriously, it wasn’t some profound moment rather more of a quiet inner knowing, a feeling, a subtle shift towards a new perspective. I just new. I knew the time was approaching.

From the time that I confirmed my decision to the day I had surgery was two weeks. I sat across from my surgeon, my eyes staring down at the piece of paper with the drawing of the female reproductive system and scattered notes from my doctor describing the details of the surgery. I felt tears start to well in my eyes and I took a deep breath slowly lifting my gaze. First to my mom, then to my doctor.

“Okay.” I said. “It’s time. When can we do it?”

And just like that I knew.

When I opened my eyes after surgery I remember thinking, it’s finally over. Sixteen years of being scared of having to make this choice is finally done. And then I smiled because I was proud of myself. I felt a peace wash over me because I knew that I wouldn’t regret this but rather I’d sleep just a bit better at night knowing I’d never get uterine, ovarian or cervical cancer.

Ever.

That I’d never have to go through the pain and suffering endured by long treatments and scary outcomes. I was free.

And I felt deep peace that this choice wasn’t made on the heels of some medical disaster but one I made for myself over time, when I was truly ready. I was proud that grew to know and trust myself that well.

Today, I choose to live.

Today I want to live.

And maybe there will be days when I feel the depths of grief that come with this experience, this loss of sorts, but I’m not so worried about her anymore because I know she’s just a part of me. I know she is there for a reason and I’ve learned to let her take my hand and walk with me. With her I walk taller and just a bit more gracefully. I know she is no longer the enemy but rather, a close friend.

10 Subtle Ways to Feel Different in 2018 and Keep the Momentum Going

It's a new year. Doesn't that feel so good?

The beginning of a new year always seems to be full of so much hope and clarity. It's an opportunity to begin again. Start over. Do things differently. 

We charge into January with so much intention, so much motivation, so much gusto. 

We are moving and shakin' our bodies. We are eating clean and healthy. We are in a state of gratitude and practicing some big shifts. We are on a roll. We are abundant!

Then, slowly, it starts to taper off. We skip the workout class to meet friends for happy hour but on the drive there, promise ourselves that tomorrow we will move our person once again.

But we don't. 

We crave pizza and cocktails and tell ourselves that it is just this one time. Tomorrow we will eat well again. 

But again, we don't. All of those things we wanted for ourselves start to slowly slip away. 

We find old thoughts and behaviors creeping in slowly and before we know it, it's as if we are back in 2017 all over again. 

Nooooo!

Kidding. 2017 wasn't that bad. 

Again, I kid. 2017 can take a big old hike!

Okay, okay,  it wasn't that bad. I had some pretty incredible things happen in 2017 too. But I am rather happy to flip the calendar on that one. 

I know I'm not the only one who is happy to say goodbye to 2017. It seems a lot of us had a bit of a difficult year and were more than happy to say peace! See ya later! Sayonara! 

But you see, the thing is, I really don't ever want to wish a year away again. The years are moving faster and faster and well, we are only allotted so many of them and I hope to make them all count. 

Be it a "good" or "bad" year,  all of it has an offering for us. This is coming off a year that more times then I care to admit, had me wailing on the floor in the middle of my living room.

So much of it made no sense to me.

However, I am starting to see things a bit clearer and although I may never say that it all happened for a reason, I am starting to see more clarity in how I can take those crappy moments and turn them into something really meaningful. 

And damn it feels good to feel optimistic again. 

I have something pretty awesome and big things in the works. I'll be so excited to share it with you soon. 

Until then, I spent New Year's Eve in a deep reflection, thinking about the previous year and drawing my biggest learnings from all the events that happened and the conclusion that I came to was that 2017 was a catalyst for some pretty intense personal growth on all levels. 

Physically, emotional, mental. You name it and 2017 challenged it all. 

Parts of 2017 really did stink. However, even those hard events have created new ways of me wanting to be with myself and in the world. 

This year for New Year's Eve, I decided to forgo the usual get dressed up, find a party, drink too much and feel like utter and complete poop the next day for a quiet, reflective night at home by the fire.

I'm not going to lie, my FOMO definitely kicked in. (Mom, FOMO means, fear of missing out.)  But if I have taken anything away this year it's getting really honest with myself and asking what it is I truly need.

I needed to end 2017 in the most positive, intentional, loving way I know how. 

That involved getting quiet, playing my favorite tunes, making a fire, diffusing my favorite essential oils, and then answering some really honest questions I'd been avoiding for, well, ever. 

2017 may have had some doozy experiences but my ability to draw goodness from those happenings is what gives me confidence for 2018. 

And from the events of this past year, I realized that as much as this space is an outlet for me to share, process and heal, I want to get back to a place of offering you something more. 

So I took the last year and I came up with ten subtle ways to feel different in 2018. Use them, don't, use one or two, use none. 

Overall, I hope you too can look back at your 2017 with kindness and love and take exactly what you need to make this year the best.

10 subtle ways to feel different in 2018 -- and keep the momentum going.    

1. Take stock of what is and what isn't working in your life. 

If you've been reading this blog for awhile you know I am a big fan of having my "come to Jesus' moments. These are those sometimes painful, sometimes liberating moments when I stop hiding and get really honest with myself about the various areas of my life that aren't working. Or are working. There is nothing to be ashamed of. Those things that aren't working are merely catalysts to create change and go down a different path. A lot of the time you have to experience the pain to get on the right path. And those areas that are working -- well celebrate it! We all could probably use a little more celebrating in our lives. 

2. Go slow

I think one of the keys to creating lasting change in your life is going at it slow. This is speaking from years of experience. I'm what is called an Activator. I get an idea and wham! I want it all to fall into place right now and will do whatever is necessary to get there. Then I lose steam and move onto the next thing. I forget that sometimes, slow and steady wins the race. So my advice, and only because I've learned this the hard way, treat your idea, your dreams, your goals or whatever you call it, like a houseplant. Take all the precautions to allow it to grow big and strong. Good, organic soil, water, light, time to root down, and slowly but surely, it will in fact grow. 

3. Start small

You know that saying, Rome wasn't built in a day? Well, why the heck do we think we can take a lifelong habit and wish it away overnight? Patience is pretty important when it comes to making lasting change. And kindness. To yourself and others. Baby steps my dears. Just put one foot in front of the others and before you know it, you've walked a mile. 

5. Build self-trust

Every time we make a new goal or want to change a way we do something we have the opportunity to build self-trust. A healthy sense of trusting yourself is imperative to create habits that last. However, every time we don't follow through, we are breaking that trust with ourselves and others. We may be able to brush it off, but again, speaking from experiences, it starts to compile over time and feels like a big heavy weight on your shoulders. It doesn't feel good at all. So this is why going slow and starting small is really important. 

6. Live and breath your values

I remember one day I realized while talking with someone that I really didn't have a clear idea what my values were. That made me sad. Then I remember thinking if I don't know what I stand for, how am I ever going to get the things that I want? So I came up with a list of my top five personal values and I wrote them out and posted them on a board in my room. I base all my decisions, er, well, I try to base all my decisions off of whether or not they are aligned with those five values. I truly believe if you do this, you'll feel so much better about how you make decisions in your life. 

7. Say goodbye to those that aren't a fit anymore

You'd think this one was a no-brainer but it's amazing how many people we tend to keep in our lives without really taking a good long look as to why. I've had to silently say goodbye to a few friendships this year and mostly within the last few weeks. Not because I don't care about them deeply but because it wasn't healthy for me to keep them as am active person in mu life. It was what was best for me to propel forward on my path. I knew it in my gut. Holding on to them was like holding onto a giant weight. I felt like I couldn't get any forward momentum.

It's okay to say goodbye. It's hard. It's not always black and white but most of the time you know, deep down, that it's the right thing to do.  

8. Let go of expectations

Expectations are a huge killer of happiness and joy. When we expect a certain outcome, we limit ourselves from the possibility that life could offer us something so much better. When we have expectations, we are often met with great disappointment when life doesn't unfold how we think it should. Sometimes it can derail us. Often it will prevent us from moving forward with our goals, hopes and dreams. And thus, we get stuck. Really stuck. 

I know it may feel totally unrealistic to never have expectations but I think as we learn to adjust them we stay in the organic flow that is life and our let down isn't as extreme. We allow life to redirect us and from personal experiences, the redirection is usually better then anything I could have crafted had I forced my way into fruition. 

What's that saying? Oh yeah, let go, let God. 

9. Give up the ego labels

I learned this lesson big time this past year when I was diagnosed with a rare form of cancer that had no known origin. I found myself feeling really confused and lost, like I didn't belong. People would ask what kind of cancer I had and I'd just stare at them blankly. "Um, well, I was diagnosed with metastatic cancer of an unknown primary."

I'd be met with blank stares and looks of confusing and I'd want to reach out and say, "Yeah, I'm confused too."

Eventually I had to find a way to just stop caring so much about the label and focus on other things. This made me think about all the other areas of my life I am attached to certain labels. Labels help us compartmentalize ourselves into little boxes.  However, I think that sometimes what we identify ourselves with can cause overwhelm and internal chaos in our lives. I find myself feeling this way a lot. Especially being a 'jack-of-all' trades kind of gal. But when it comes down to it, I'm just me, Amanda, and feels so much better.

10. Get a Dog. Seriously. Or a cat. Or both

Okay, this really has nothing to do with feeling different in 2018 but Rocky kind of changed my life in 2017 and so if you are teetering on the line of deciding whether or not to get a pet, I say do it. 100%, get the dog or cat or pet. As long as you can responsibly take care of them, do it.