I set out to tell her what a difference her show made to me in helping me through those first couple of months where I was the most vulnerable. It was by watching this show that I learned it was okay to grieve, and it was okay to feel crazy, but I had to keep going, if for nothing else other than people were depending on me and out of sheer determination and stubbornness.
I worried that I wouldn't be able to form complete sentences because I was starstruck. However, I did tell her, and I told her everything. I expected an "I'm sorry", after all, it's what we all hope to hear. And I did hear that, but it was followed by "I had eight miscarriages before my daughter" and the warmest hug I could have ever received.
Watching her as a person is awe inspiring. She manages to produce a show, to act in it, to run a charity, and to be a mother to her one daughter that she fought so hard to have. Something changed in me that day, something healed. And while I still sit here struggling to get pregnant again and find a way to bring home that child, it is a great feat to sit here and be able to smile again. Because when I had my picture taken with her, it's the first time since losing my son that my smile finally reaches my eyes. And I wish that for all of you.
So maybe this post isn't as much angry at others, but anger with myself. It took a much stronger person than I to show me that I CAN keep going, and most importantly, with a smile on my face.
