“I wish I’d fallen softly. Light and graceful like a feather drifting slowly to the earth on a warm and dreamy summer’s day. I wish that I’d landed softly too. But there is nothing soft or graceful about that devastating moment when the worst has come to pass. The unavoidable truth is that it is hard, cold and brutal. All that you know to be true and good in life shatters in an instant. You feel like a delicate pottery bowl violently tossed from your place of rest, watching yourself crash and scatter across the hostile dark earth. The sound is deafening. Time stops. Inside, the quiet ache of shock and heartbreak slowly makes its grip known. They cut deep, these jagged edges of broken sherds. You gasp for air hungrily, yet somehow forget how to breathe.” TraumaGrief And LossInfertilityPregnancy LossSubfertilityEctopic Book:Mending Softly: Finding Hope & Healing After Ectopic Pregnancy Loss Source: Mending Softly: Finding Hope & Healing After Ectopic Pregnancy Loss
“The fall is hard – the crashing, the breaking, the scattering of your broken clay body. What I found however, is that the mending is slow, soft and although somewhat ungraceful still, you sense yourself being held by an unseen force, something greater than you wrapping you in its balm. Remember this on those days when it feels like healing will never come.” HealingGrief And LossMendingInfertilityPregnancy LossSubfertilityEctopic Book:Mending Softly: Finding Hope & Healing After Ectopic Pregnancy Loss Source: Mending Softly: Finding Hope & Healing After Ectopic Pregnancy Loss