"There's nothing I can do except flush it away. It is gone. Sadness spreads slowly through my chest like thick syrup . . . I learn that a miscarriage isn't a black and white kind of thing. It's a continuum: you're pregnant, then you're sort of pregnant, then you're not so pregnant, then you aren't pregnant any more. During this time, the doctor offers no conclusive answers or explanations about why this happened. There are no pamphlets, books, or support group information. She simply sends me on my way with a recommendation that I wait a full year before trying to get pregnant again," (What I Gave to the Fire).
How many women go through this . . . So many I know. Told it happens, to wait, left to sit with what is without answers or support, too many women turn to silence. Kim Evan's newly published memoir, What I Gave to the Fire, is a woman's story of loss, connection, and transformation. By using writing as a tool to heal, Kim leads the reader as she journeys to discover, write, and rewrite her story.
Kim's authentic voice and truth telling narrative asks us to bare witness. This witnessing invites us, the reader, into our own story, "A blend of memoir, journal entries, and written prayers, this story takes the reader by the hand, offering companionship, compassion, and hope to those who feel alone in their grief over the loss of miscarriage," (What I Gave to the Fire).
"What I Gave to the Fire breaks the barrier of silence surrounding miscarriage."
Thankful for stories like this. Thankful for truth-tellers.