“It’s going to be okay,” my husband said after we left one doctor’s appointment and made our way to another.
“No, it isn’t!” I cried, knowing that my instincts throughout my pregnancy had been correct. I wondered how he could be so calm, put together, when I was falling apart.
We’d just been sent to see a specialist after being told that my pregnancy didn’t “look good.”
Things were NOT okay. I wasn’t okay. IT wasn’t okay. I was going to lose my baby. That tiny life was out of my control, and so was my own.
But looking back, my husband never said “It IS okay.” Because he knew full well it wasn’t. Losing a baby is never okay.
What he said was, “It’s GOING to be okay.
And you know what?
He was right.
It is. It is okay. Not the part about our baby being born still.
But life. It’s okay. Even good.
It took time.
It wasn’t okay in that moment – or in the many long moments and months afterwards.
But healing has taken place. Light has overpowered the darkness that loomed for so long. And it’s okay.
I survived the worst days of my life – when I never thought I’d be able to honestly say I was okay ever again.
But here I am, despite the crushing pain of loss. Despite the devastation of stillbirth.
And I’m okay.