My Heart Stopped the Moment I Found out Yours Did…

“There is a unique pain that comes from preparing a place in your heart for a child that never comes.” – David Platt

The most difficult burden I have ever endured is the loss of my child. The most hardening and possibly the loneliest part of this burden, is the disappointing fact that I suffer in silence. Because God forbid I place that burden on others. God forbid I place a dark cloud over their day, even if it’s just for a brief moment.

This experience as shown me the ugliest parts of “humanity.” The way people overlook and ignore my grief. I had a missed miscarriage, and somehow people feel that my grief is not valid. The way people get so uncomfortable that they think it is acceptable to change the subject. Because they lack the “proper” words to say to me. Or maybe because their responses can be so cold, it’s enough to break your heart repeatedly in a split second. I’ve been told that it was not even a “baby” yet. I’ve been told that I can always try again. I’ve been told that at least I am capable of becoming pregnant. Or my personal favorite, (rolls eyes), “Everything happens for a reason.” Lol. Are you kidding me? I feel SO much better now, thank you! That amount of pain in such a short period of time after hearing responses like this…I would never wish that on anyone. I try to keep my composure when I hear things like this. I might even agree at the moment, when honestly, I just want to rip the person’s head off with my bare hands. I would never wish this on anyone. I pray no one experiences what I have experienced. But unfortunately, it happens so often. 1 in 4 women to be exact, according to various statistics. Yet, it is still considered taboo…in 2019…mind blowing. And women around the world are forced to suffer in silence as they question their self worth, unable to do the one thing a woman’s body was created to do.

Yesterday, I would have been 14 weeks. I would have been announcing my healthy pregnancy. I would have been planning a gender reveal. My belly would have been growing at a rapid rate. I would have felt my baby move. I would have talked to my belly. Put headphones to my belly just to see how my precious baby would have reacted to different genres of music. All of this would have happened in a perfect world. But instead, I was at my annual exam discussing birth control because I am not ready to try again. Because the fear of experiencing this again is crippling. Because I wish I could just move one from this and continue to live my life. It’s surreal. Sometimes I forget, and I’m okay. And other times, I am reminded. Scrolling through my timeline and I come across a video of a gender reveal. Shit. Fulfilling my HR duties and sending a staff announcement to congratulate a couple on their new addition to the family. Here comes the waterworks. A day in the park, as the children carelessly run and laugh with joy. My heart. A celebration of a 1st birthday party. What an amazing blessing. I am constantly reminded and it feels as if the wind is knocked out of me. Every. Single. Time. But I should just “get over it,” right?

I’ve been through some pretty difficult times in my life and I usually overcome them. I suppose this situation should be no different. But it hurts different. It changes the very core of who you are. It questions your faith, your existence, and your reasoning for all things. I’m not sure if I will ever get over it. I’m not sure if I ever want to forget. What I do know is that I will continue to spread awareness. For the women who can’t speak up. For the women who feel alone. For the women who is currently going through this horrible situation brought on by unfortunate circumstances, with no control or choice. For all of the people who think this is easy, simply because they judge what they do not understand. Because it matters. Whether it was a miscarriage or a stillbirth, it matters. PREGNANCY LOSS MATTERS. My baby mattered. And I will grieve for however long it takes. I will not apologize for it. I will always talk about it. I will never stop caring. NEVER. My grief is valid. Women, our grief is valid. And I am so sorry that we have to deal with the stigma and cruelty from our peers. I pray there are better days ahead of us. I pray there is life after death. I pray that we find ways to heal. Ways to honor our babies. We don’t have to be alone in this.

I refuse to suffer in silence.

Why Ang Meets Soul?

Hello beautiful souls! Thank you for visiting! 

Self- realization demands very great struggle.                                                                                                                                                               -Swami Sivananda 

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“Oh no, not another emo blogger pouring her despair and agony all across the world wide net.” RELAX. I come in peace…literally. Consider this a journey, a voyage if you will. Filled with the good, bad, and all of the in between. An honest testimony.

First things first, my name is Angie Soul. No, it’s not made up. It’s a play on my real name, shortened- Angelique Soulet. I am 29 years old, and I’m pretty sure I have been experiencing an early mid-life crisis. Where nothing makes sense. Where nothing seems secure. Where everything is ridiculously uncomfortable, for no clear reason! But, here I am. Pushing the envelope of my limited comfort zone. Being completely vulnerable and raw with the rest of the world. But most importantly, with myself. I like to think of myself as the “Rise of the Phoenix.” I have crashed and burned miserably many times in my life. Yet, time and time again, I seem to come back even better than before. I pride myself on that type of resiliency. I often remind myself when I feel less than strong and brave. Admittedly, most times these reminders don’t come easy. After all, I am human.

So why Ang Meets Soul? Besides being a play on my government, and one of my favorite childhood shows “Boy Meets World,”(which I happen to think is VERY clever btw), it’s a coming of self-realization; self discovery. Becoming attuned to your divine soul. Your true self. Without hiding behind all the bullshit, you know? The stereotypes, the facades, the unrealistic expectations. ALL OF IT. I am SO TIRED of apologizing for the person I am. The less than favorable parts of me that I try to bury so deep, that at times I become unrecognizable to myself. But above all, I am tired of holding myself back because of my overwhelming fear of judgement. I’m not sure what it is…but it’s as if a fire has been lit under my ass. I feel propelled to step into the unknown. Time seems to be passing faster than usual. It feels as if…like, time is running out…maybe because soon I will no longer be a part of the 20’s club, who knows. Not to be all mystical and shit, but time really is a gift. I’m tired of wasting it. This is my WHY.

I want to speak love into others, to myself. I want other people to know that they are not alone. That it is okay to speak openly about their demons. That you do not have to hide or feel ashamed. That this is a judge free, open zone. A listening ear. A shoulder to cry on. I want everyone to know that the bad times are constant, but not permanent. It is sprinkled with beautiful, amazing moments that make you realize that despite it all, you are okay. You might even be…happy. Or blessed (figure that)! And if you haven’t reached happiness yet, you are well on your way there! I am proof of that. Stick with me.

Wishing all of my readers infinite love and positive vibes. Until next time.

Xo, Ang