therapy update

Well, therapy wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.  Luckily the therapist seems very experienced and nice and I felt comfortable with her.  I am going back next week--I think I'll go every week for a few weeks, then once a month, because that is what she recommended.

It felt weird and good to TALK so much about Kayla and her death and birth, and everything that has happened since then.  I write a lot but to sit down and tell someone the WHOLE story, without worrying about whether they were uncomfortable or not, did help a little.  This is the next step for me, and I am proud of myself for following through. 

One thing she said to me has been churning around in my head all week.  At one point I was talking about my body, and how I don't trust it, and that adds to my suffocating fear that I'll never get pregnant again.  My body let me down at the last minute, when I needed it to hold on for just a few more weeks.  Anyways, the counselor just asked me if I had considered that it was Kayla's body that failed, not mine.  And as simple as it might seem to someone looking in from the outside, I have not really considered that.  Yes, it was her body that had the tumor.  But it was my body's job to grow her and keep her healthy.  I can't think of it as being "her fault" (I know neither of us is really at fault) because I hate thinking of her as being defective in some way.  I think it will help me to think of that, that someday I will be able to separate the experience and really believe that it was not my body that failed, but hers.  But I just can't do that yet, it's too harsh. 

Otherwise, she helped validate that I am at a good place in my grief, and that no matter how many things I do to try to speed up the process, this first year at least is going to be a time of deep grief.  It's ok to be on this up-and-down roller coaster still, to have good days and bad days.  My good days definitely outweigh the bad, but there are still moments each day where I feel anger or sadness or fear.  Sometimes my grief just manifests itself as exhaustion.  And it's all ok. 

So, as someone who never thought I would want or need to see a therapist in my life, even stubbornly so, I can say that I went and survived and am actually looking forward to next week a little bit.