The lessons from miscarriage that have prepared me to handle COVID-19.

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Eventually, on a sunny May day when the wildflowers on the river trail were just beginning to burst forth with glory, my baby died. And it sucked.

And it blew my worldview to bits. And after that, I resided in the depths of grief for a very, very long time. And I was never the same.

But guess what? I survived.

And then good things happened, and then bad things happened. And I survived. Did I exist forever after my baby’s death, through everything that came next, good or bad, in a state of enlightened bliss? No, I did not.

Normal life resumed, and I began to worry about stupid shit again. Did I look nice? Was I a good writer? Was I making my dad proud? Did people like me?

To churn mentally on matters such as these is human. Thanks, frontal lobe. We have to fight for our enlightenment on a daily basis. Hence, the yoga industry and meditation apps.

But then something like the COVID-19 virus…

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