What Happened ~ A Love Letter to Loss 🥀

A year ago, I lost someone very important to me. 

Maybe I shouldn’t be sharing this story. But this is where I come to speak my truth, as they say. And this is a Big Thing that happened, or so it felt to me. It is a crucial part of my narrative, particularly of my pregnancy journey, that I don’t want to have to hide. 

It all sort of started when I became pregnant last January. Tensions started to build between this person and me. I can’t say I expected it…I guess I had this naive notion that everyone (or at least the people closest to me) would be happy and excited about my pregnancy. That wasn’t the case with this person, and one day, we had an altercation that I was not expecting. 

Of course, there are two sides to every story, and this is only mine. But, I have to simply say that I still to this day don’t know what I did to incite such an outburst. This person said things to me that still make me cringe. Things that made my husband and my mother and my best friends gasp when I told them. 

When this happened, I broke. 

A photo from a particularly hard day last summer, when I put on my best fake smile and tried to pretend I was feeling okay.

I was already struggling with severe anxiety at the time, brought on by the intense hormonal changes of my first trimester, but this event took me to the absolute brink of my wits. The thought of returning to where the altercation happened had me hyperventilating and in tears. I spent the next 4 days sobbing in bed, not eating. I couldn’t keep my hands and legs from shaking, my heart from racing. 

And this was all with my unborn son inside of me, feeling everything I felt. I was terrified, for him and for me. 

For months later, I had dreams about the event and this person. I woke up thinking about it, went to bed replaying every detail, every harsh word, in my mind. I felt such intense guilt that I couldn’t console myself, and I had to work very hard with my psychiatrist through many sessions to start to see that no real guilt rested with me. Even to this day, I have dreams about what happened, and I still catch myself feeling responsible and ashamed. Ashamed to be pregnant and to be me. 

This whole situation forced me to redefine myself and to re-evaluate what was important to me (namely my son). But, with that came a profound feeling of loss. This person was everything to me; I often thought that if I didn’t have my husband, I could get by in life with this person beside me. I’ve never suffered a breakup (my husband was my first real boyfriend), but this felt akin to one for me, and I found myself retreating into hiding, getting upset and bothered by the mere mention of this person’s name. Social media became a terrifying minefield. And, what hurt most is that our business felt unfinished; I was still so confused about how we got where we did. Though no one had died, I felt grief…and so I mourned. 

I may never have answers or closure, and honestly, I may never be able to move on. That kind of pain maybe lasts a lifetime. When I look at my son, though, it all seems a bit less significant. 

My pregnancy was marred by this experience, and I’ll never get that time back. My son and I will always have this as a part of our history, as a huge hurdle we overcame together before he was even born. I battled the darkest anxiety and depression I have ever known, with my little warrior by my side. I do believe, ultimately, that I am stronger for it. 

my little warrior & protector

I have often thought about what I would say to this person now if I could. I think I would say, “I needed you. I was more scared than I have ever been in my life. I was petrified. I needed you, I needed my friend to hold my hand. But, you left me. You abandoned me. And that is a betrayal I don’t think I can ever forgive.”

That, at least for now, is my truth. 

Janille N G 🥀


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