Tomorrow (9/16/14) is 10 months. Ten months since I held my baby girl. 10 months ago I didn't think I could make it to today. Let's be honest, I didn't think I could make it a week or even a month. I wrote how I survived breath by breath, minute by minute. That was all I could do. The clock moved so slowly and I just kept taking another breath. And then another.
Everyone told me time will ease the pain, not take it away, but will ease it. I have felt that the last few weeks. I still, and always will, ache in my chest and wish I was holding my baby girl. I often try to visualize her at what her current age would be. What words would she be saying? She was a smart little whipper-snapper, I wouldn't be surprised if she had some teeny baby sentences already. How much hair would she have? I bet she would have loved Sophia the First. And I would have loved having some girly time.
My days seem to feel normal. A "new" normal. I have carried the grief long enough that my back has shaped itself to carry it without noticing quite as much. Don't get me wrong, anyone will notice a heavy sack of bricks they carry 24/7, but it gets easier as your muscles develop. I do recognize grief is not linear. It is like a wave and goes up and down. I never know how far back down I will go when this wave peaks. I still have some days when I just don't want to be happy, get ready or smile. But I have adjusted to that just being part of who I am now. I am an emotionally complex person, that is my new reality and I am okay with it. I am so grateful for people who love me the way I am, and understand.
In just 2 1/2 weeks it will be Jane's 2nd birthday. I am honestly terrified for this day. It's going to be hard. I want so badly to have pink balloons and princess's. I want to see Janie's face as she opens a new doll. I can't have that. I have some dear friends organizing a celebration and day of service for us (which will be announced in more detail on Facebook soon). I am hoping at the very least to have a day of peace and perspective. To know I will get every lost birthday with her someday, but for now I need to just be patient and grateful for the many blessings I do have.
From a website called "The grief Toolbox" Thought you could identify with this woman who lost her child as well.
ReplyDeleteFighting Through the Hell
Submitted by kelkoo | September 18, 2014 - 12:52pm
What a hell of a ride it has been. I look back over the last 22 months and I am in awe at how far I've come, yet how stagnant I've become. I feel I need to speak directly to those struggling parents out there or to those that are trying to love and be there for those struggling. It's one hell of a torturous road.
You say you get it and you understand and you recognize, but I am here to tell you that you don't. By no fault of your own of course...you just don't. You can't. Those of us in this deep grief can hardly understand it and wade through it, how could you possibly? That's why this road of grief is so lonely and sad, because we travel so much of it alone; trapped within ourselves, fighting through the pain.
I told a friend this morning that Sky's death has shaped me in ways that I don't even understand and in many of those ways, I don't like the shape I've taken. I'm quick to anger, afraid to trust, terrified to let go and bitter about my journey. Not always of course. God has his way of getting through to me and reminding me to keep on keepin' on.....but it's a tiresome road. The most tiresome journey I have ever endured. It's a constant battle between tears, screaming, questioning and moving forward.
We have no choice but to press on because to give up, isn't even an option.
Every day I seem to meet someone new that is traveling the same road as me...some are further down the road and some have just begun. In the end we all look like mirrors of one another. Sure, we all grieve differently and the circumstances of the death may vary and we may not all believe and have faith in God above....but we are the same in so many ways. Normally meeting others like you is comforting....not anymore. I hate meeting others like myself as it just reminds me that this world is cruel and unjust and I still have 3 babies here that must endure it.
So for you grieving moms (and dads), know that your journey is never ending and it will have many forks and twists and turns and, sometimes you will find yourself standing right back where you began; angry and disappointed at yourself for feeling so lost and confused. "Pull it together Kelli!" "Stop focusing on what is gone!" "Put a smile on your face!" "Be thankful!" "Put on your big girl pants and lead the way!" "You're stronger than this!" <<<< Ah the things we tell ourselves all in the name of surviving the pain. Take the time to look yourself in the mirror, remind yourself that you are human and you will lose your way, you will forget what direction you should be heading in, and it is OK to threaten to give up! Remind yourself that you are enduring the single most excruciating pain known to mankind -- even in the animal kingdom mothers protect their babies to the death and mourn them! Then drop to your knees and pray. Pray for strength to get through another day, pray for guidance while on your journey through hell and pray for God to surround you with loving, supporting, patient and understanding people. Lastly, pray for God to use you.
When my purpose here seems clouded, I pray for God to use me; if he's using me, I can't give up.
2 Corinthians 1:3-4
*originally posted to my blog: www.iloveumore.com
I don't know you, but my good friend Becca Johnson posted about Jane on Instagram. So I've been reading your story and bawling. I'm pregnant with my third baby, and my second just turned 2. I absolutely can't imagine what you're going through. My heart and prayers go out to you and your husband and boys. I hope you feel surrounded by loved ones and buoyed up by the spirit as you celebrate her birthday and remember her today. Such a beautiful girl. My heart goes out to you.
ReplyDeleteMy friend Emily Martino posted on Jane's birthday so I followed links and found you here. I read your entire blog last night and cried, just as I'm sure everyone does who comes here.
ReplyDeleteYour honesty and questions and explanations and your compassion and faith and doubts, all so beautifully expressed here, have really resonated with me. My nephew, who died at 11 days old, has his 3rd birthday coming up next week. We knew he would not live long due to a genetic condition but it was still so frightening because we didn't know what to expect. We held him and fed him and he seemed so much like a normal newborn in many ways although we knew what was coming. So I can't say I have experienced this grief or shock firsthand by any stretch, but I experienced a little of it secondhand. I absolutely love what you have written about your faith faltering and then you putting the pieces back together. I think that is just right. Some people are blessed with rock-solid faith but I think that is more rare than the people who find themselves in situations where they have to be strong even though they thought they couldn't be, and they put the shattered pieces together and rebuild to something stronger.
I too have experienced debilitating depression, anxiety and panic attacks, although not prompted by any one experience. Getting through one day at a time sometimess feels like a marathon.
Anyway I don't have anything profound to say at all, just that if I met you I'd give you a big hug and mop your floor and bring you dinner and talk about your angel all you wanted. The pictures you posted of her are truly stunning. Such a great loss. My heart just breaks for you, it is so strange to think that life can change so quickly with no preparation and nothing you could do to prevent it. Thank you for being an example to a stranger.