So, How Was Your Summer Really?

time for a cool changee
image; Jan’spageofawesomeness tumblr

Fall is in the air. I can almost smell the new, freshly sharpened pencils and blank notebooks.  You know the ones with the line on the left margin? I can feel the brand new text books with stubborn spines holding promise of a new world of words and facts.  Even if we’re not returning to school something in our soul tells us so.  The falling leaves, the sound of school bells and new shoes all say “hey, what are you going to learn?”

Are you going back to school to try something new or are you going to simply turn over a new leaf?

Either way, soon you’ll have to answer the innocuous question “How was your summer?”  The fact is that it just ended and I haven’t quite put it into perspective.   It’s barely a distant memory but that doesn’t stop people from asking and assuming your summer was fantastic.   Does anyone ever answer with the truth ‘It was terrible.’? No, that would be unacceptable. Not unlike a divorce, people will ask how it’s going but rarely do they want to know the ugly truth of it.

I remember having the worst summer of my life yet I answered the dreaded question with “Great” and a fake smile.  No one wants to hear or accept that summer wasn’t so great or it didn’t turn out the way we hoped it would…

something I've been meaning to tell you
image source; dreamstime

Many summers ago I had a miscarriage.  The thing was I knew it was going to happen before it started.  During a routine ultrasound the technician got very quiet and said he was going to get the Doctor. He returned with a man in a lab coat.  After this unfamiliar doctor pushed on my stomach with the wand, I was informed in a clinical manner that “There’s no heartbeat.”

“What?” I said dumbly.  I was in shock.

“See?” the Doctor without a name pointed to a speck on the screen, “That’s the heart. It’s not moving.”

Something about the way he explained it like I was daft, stung me. It stung me hard.  Tears were coming and I refused to let him see them.  Thank goodness the room was dark.  Isn’t it the strangest of moments that our pride stands up and says…move along— there’s nothing to see here...He left without a word.  When the technician returned I was attempting to get off the exam table wiping away the jelly that had gone cold.  He said something sympathetic. As much as I tried, I couldn’t even open my mouth to speak.  I stepped out to the children’s waiting area to see my son playing with cars.

It was July 25th. I didn’t begin to bleed until August.  When it did finally start, I thought it would never stop. I went to the hospital emergency ward for a D & C after incredible pain began at 3 am.

“It happens all the time.”  I was told by well meaning friends.  As if my grief was commonplace.  After the fifth time of hearing this, I finally said “It doesn’t happen to me all the time.  Okay?” Let me hurt! I wanted to say. And I hurt for months.

So, that was my summer several years ago and no matter how I try, I won’t forget.  She would be 13 now (I still count the years and think she would be…). The seasons bring back  memories or anniversaries of the heart.  So, please forgive me if you’ve had a terrible summer and I ask “So, how was your summer?”  Just know you don’t have to put on a fake smile here.  You can tell me how your summer really was good, bad or indifferent.

This post took a sharp left turn.  Maybe the next one will be funny…

A new season is upon us.  It’s time to move forward again, with one foot in front of the other, the way we do.  Watching the leaves fall, feeling the cool air, hearing the fog horns from the fishing boats, pulling out my sweaters all remind me it’s time to start again.  Another season.  Put the past behind us, maybe even open a text book or watch our children begin a new school year.  We don’t forget but we HEAL. That’s how we turn over a new leaf.

An Ideal Divorce-is there such a thing?
image credit; riseafterfalling.tumblr


Welcome back to The Great Escape, where we don’t have to fake our smiles. Thanks to my loyal readers for remembering me while I was away.

Leave a comment, I LOVE ’em

signature black

Know someone who would enjoy this post? Share it!
Pin It

Related Posts:

16 Replies to “So, How Was Your Summer Really?”

  1. July 25th is my birthday! I’m sorry it gave you such a terrible, terrible time.
    My summer was anxious. Is there any good way to write that? The first half was ok, but the second half was just a little scary. Daycare and kindergarten. Prep for both. It wasn’t my best summer. It wasn’t my worst either, though.

    1. Hi Tamara, you share your birthday with my Dad’s 🙂 Sounds like a lot of changes and new beginnings going on in your house! That can definitely be anxiety producing. I hope it all goes well for the kiddies and you!

  2. What a beautifully honest post, Lisa, and I’m so very sorry about losing your baby. I wonder if this time between summer and fall is also a time for reflection for all of us, to carefully carry and hold those precious things that we’ve lost, while at the same time reaching for that healing, better place. Maybe it’s two sides of the same path, (or maybe not). Still, thank you for your meaningful words and sharing that part of your life.

    1. Hi Jane, yes something about the fall always makes me think about where I’ve been. Even more than Spring it’s a reflective time. In spring, I’m so excited for the warm weather and fun stuff to come but fall is a more serious time. Thank you so much for your lovely comment

  3. I love fall and I’m so happy it’s right around the corner. My summer was…hectic. With a lot of family drama. My sister announced she was divorcing her husband who has abused her and dragged her down their whole marriage, and was recently doing drugs. But then two days later she lets him back into her life. All this happened around my brother’s wedding. So it was very bitter sweet. Then right after my brother’s wedding my dad and I had a falling out. *sighs* I’m glad the summer is ending and definitely look forward to turning over a new leaf.

    1. Hi Chrys, I was wondering how your brother’s wedding went (for you). I’m sorry to hear about your sister. Dads? Daughters are from Venus, Fathers are from Mars…that was one of my posts a few years ago 🙂 Seriously, though I hope you and your dad are able to resolve things. Sigh. Meantime, we’ll welcome Fall! Thanks for sharing here.

  4. Hi Lisa,

    I am so sorry for the loss of your baby, which still hurts. I could pick up those whiffs of pain in that description. The doctors and the technicians can never sympathise with such tragedies because they see them every single day and probably become immune to them.

    Some memories are indelible, we try to forget them and move ahead but they always return as yours does, with the change of seasons. Thanks for sharing such a precious yet painful memory.

    1. Thank you Balroop. I feel a little guilty accepting sympathy for something so far in the past. It’s just indelible as you say ( i love that word). Doc’s certainly can lose their sensitivity. My OB was wonderful and kind and wouldn’t have broken the news like that.anyhow, a new season is upon us and there’s always something to look forward to. Thanks for your lovely comment.

  5. Many of my friends went through this. And it was so hard. Oh how we cried together! My summer was hard, but I say “great” too. Not losing a baby hard. And I have had worse. But pretty challenging. (I think I did amazing through it if I do say so myself.)

    But the question always shocks me. It seems so thin. xo

    1. Hi Jody, yes, so many women go through this loss. It’s so hard to describe the depth of it to anyone who hasn’t experienced it. I’m glad you had some ‘great’ mixed in with that ‘challenge’. I imagine you did super amazing! You’re a great example of grace and peace. Thanks for stopping by! 🙂

  6. Lisa, I’m so sorry for your loss. Even though it’s been 13 years, I have no doubt the pain is still there.

    I hope Fall brings you wonderful times.

    1. Thank you Alison. I can’t believe it’s been that long and I still remember it like it was yesterday. I definitely look forward to fall and setting some goals. You also have much to look forward to and I’ll stay posted to hear all about your twins!

  7. I don’t think a pain like that, something so horrific for a new mom, will ever go away It may lessen but it will always be there tugging at your heart.
    I think that it’s ok to say that you’re not ok. We tend to sugar coat things in order to protect not only ourselves but the people asking.
    I’m so proud of you for writing this out. I know that there are a lot of women (including myself but not the same circumstance) have a lot of painful memories resurface on anniversaries. You’re making them feel less alone and that it’s ok to not be ok. xoxo

Comments are closed.