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I live in a desert..

Updated: Aug 13, 2020

Grief writing course - Entry 3


I live in a desert of lost hopes and dreams, but there's still a mirage of hope. A mirage where things go right for a change. Another baby. That mirage is fleeting with each passing month of more infertility. The body bleeds and the sands of the desert envelop me. The desert is dry and useless and I navigate it aimlessly.

Before, I was living in a forest of lush blissful happiness. An abundance of well wishes and an outpouring of gifts for the baby.

Now, in this desert, there's silence. No one knows what to say, but the thoughts of Miles are ever-present. This desert is vast but so quiet and the silence is deafening. As time moves, less and less is said. I trudge through the sand, slightly further from the pain with each passing month. 

How do I navigate this desert of grief? With that oh-so-cliche idea of "one foot in front of the other". "One day at a time". I live by waking up, walking through the day often in a fog, and going to sleep. Rinse and repeat. 

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I wrote about being in a desert for this prompt, too. I think it feels apt.

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