I did a thing

Yesterday, I went back to the pool. I went swimming, for the first time since the baby died (for more insight: The girl who stopped swimming). My mom came up and I used one of the guest passes I was given so I could have her come along. That might sound silly, that a 31-year-old woman needed her mom to restart this routine, but I needed help. I couldn’t do it on my own. Just having another person there made it less nerve-wracking. We used the indoor pool instead of the outdoor — I schemed it that way, thinking that because it was summer most families would be outside, and I was right! So it wasn’t very crowded, which meant I was less tense, and I got to swim and enjoy doing it.

One small step, right?

Let me tell you something you already know. The world ain’t all sunshine and rainbows. It is a very mean and nasty place and it will beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently if you let it. You, me, or nobody is gonna hit as hard as life. But it ain’t how hard you get hit; it’s about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward. How much can you take, and keep moving forward. That’s how winning is done. Now, if you know what you’re worth, then go out and get what you’re worth. — Rocky Balboa

Gimme some peace

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change;

Courage to change the things I can;

And the wisdom to know the difference.

That’s the Serenity Prayer. It’s likely you’ve heard it somewhere, even if just on television. If you’re a part of an addiction anonymous group or you know someone who is, you’re probably very aware of it. I’m not sure when I first heard it, but when my mother finally embraced AA as a support she needed to get sober, I became very familiar.

I like the prayer; I can see how it is affirming, and reaffirming, and sometimes a desperate cry to the universe. And lately, I’ve been thinking about how applicable it can be towards anything in life. I feel like I can use it now. I’m really reaching to get some peace somehow. This prayer — it’s a plea. At least for me. A shout into the dark to please please send some peace, some serenity, my way.

Because I accept (most of the time) that I can’t change the loss of my baby. That won’t ever go away. I can try to be brave again, to have courage and take the chance to dare to change the future. The last part stills me though; because sometimes I feel like these things are intertwined, and it can be really difficult to find the wisdom to tell the difference.