The hour that I was told by the doctor that we lost our daughter–a few hours before my wife was to give birth to her–I felt a huge blow to my gut.
Last year, I lost my job and daughter less than a month apart.
Last year, I had tons of bills piling up because there was no income coming in and I was mourning with my wife at the same time.
Last year was a huge challenge.
The hour that I was told by the doctor that we lost our daughter–a few hours before my wife was to give birth to her–I felt a huge blow to my gut. A blow that cannot describe the pain.
My wife had no idea of what was happening, all she knew then was that she was to give birth to our daughter who we waited for five long years to come.
I did not cry.
I held my composure and assured my wife that she needs to be strong for her and the baby.
Not a tear.
One hour before she was to give birth, the doctor accidentally told her. She was devastated. I held my tears back because I did not want her to see me fall apart. I wanted to be her strength.
I felt that if I gave in to my tears, she would crumble as well.
But exactly 6:45 that night, when the doctor let me hold my daughter, I could not hold it anymore. I cried like a child who lost his mother.
I cried as if everything was taken away from me.
I was so sorry that I was crying. People around me were telling me that I should not cry because I was my wife’s pillar of strength.
I listened and held my tears again for my wife.
We brought our daughter to her resting place, and I did not cry.
I tried to be strong for my wife.
But on the day that we got home, three days after we gave birth and bid farewell to our daughter, I felt I was going to die. I felt that it was pointless.
Until I let me tears go.
I hugged my wife and cried. I told her that I am sorry that I lost my job before she was to give birth. I told her I was sorry because I should have listened to my mother instead of our doctor and insisted on getting a C-section instead.
I cried close to an hour.
And on that day, I learned that if I wanted to stay sane, I had to learn to let go of my tears and allow myself to cry.
Each tear that I let go was like a painful word unsaid that was freed. Each tear was like a punch to the people in the hospital whom I felt were the reasons why I lost my daughter.
Each tear helped me overcome the pain. It was like breathing, and then you start thinking clearly.
If you are going through life’s challenges and you feel like falling apart, but could not cry because you think it’s a sign of giving up, you are mistaken.
If I had not shed any tears, I would have probably kicked the bucket. If I had not cried, I would not have any thought of standing up and moving forward.
I have learned that crying is not giving in or losing hope, crying is a release of emotions. A release from all the pain that you feel. Crying is my therapy for all the challenges I had undergone last year.
Allow yourself to cry. Cry with your significant other. Cry together.
This makes you stronger. This makes your bond stronger as well.
We are humans after all.
And after you cry, things start to become clearer. You recover faster. You have released all tension within, and things will become better.
Today, my wife and I have expanded our chocolate business. I have been consistently working on my online business as well. I have started to join financial wealth building groups.
And every now and then, since the pain is still fresh, we still shed a tear or two. What we now realize is that we have each other, and we can always cry together.
Photo: Flickr/ Kat Northern Lights Man