Grief is unpredictable. It has it's own rhythm and most definitely marches to the beat of it's own drum.
It has been eight weeks today, eight weeks. Where have they gone? I have no idea ... the ache has not lessened. If it's possible, it hurts worse ... there is a constant sense that someone is missing. A piece of me is just gone forever, and learning to live with that is beyond painful. I long for my baby and I physically hurt that she is not here ...
I am the elephant in the room. I thought it was bad before Brienna was born, but now, it is ten times worse. No one knows what to say or how to act. Again, I can't blame them. I myself struggle with how to act. If I act happy, will people assume that I'm healed? Because that is what I do. I act as if everything is "okay" when it most certainly is not. Not a day has gone by that I don't break down in tears. Not one day. And I fear the day that I don't cry. Because if I'm not crying, then things are changing. Every moment away from June 2 feels like a betrayal of sorts.
On Friday, I sat in the parking lot of my favorite coffee shop, having an internal debate with myself about whether or not to go in. The last time I was there, I was pregnant. And the girl who made my chai always commented on Toot. I sat there for a good ten minutes because I have no idea how to tell strangers what happened. In the end, I decided to go for it. And it was a different girl; bullet dodged. But those scenarios are everywhere. The place I got my nails done, the hairdresser, the grocery store ... I am constantly worried about what to say, or how to explain what happened. I worry about meeting new people and being asked if I have children. I worry that I'll say no, because it is easier than saying that my daughter died.
It seems like everyone keeps waiting for me to move on, or to heal. I don't think you ever move on. I think it's about learning to integrate the grief into your life. Just because I smile or laugh, doesn't mean that I don't ache inside. Brienna is always on my mind and in my heart. I have a new "normal" and am trying to adjust as best I can. But incorporating grief into every day life is difficult ... like I said, it's unpredictable and has it's own rhythm - it's the dance partner that nobody wants, and I'm stuck with it forever. Yet the fact remains that I would do it all over again, even knowing the outcome. Just to hold my sweet baby girl and kiss her and marvel at her perfection. It truly is better to have loved and lost, than to never have loved at all ...
Remembering
Go ahead and mention my child,
The one that died, you know.
Don't worry about hurting me further.
The depth of my pain doesn't show.
Don't worry about making me cry.
I'm already crying inside.
Help me to heal by releasing the tears that I try to hide.
I'm hurt when you just keep silent,
Pretending she didn't exist.
I'd rather you mention my child,
Knowing that she has been missed.
You asked me how I was doing.
I say "pretty good" or "fine".
But healing is something ongoing
I feel it will take a lifetime.
~ Elizabeth Dent ~
I love you Brienna, always. And I miss you more than words can ever say ...
I never know if you think of 2 months, as 8 weeks like today or 2 months as in August 2. Thank you for sharing a piece of your mind and heart....you have such a graceful way of writing about your heartache. Your words, while I wish you never had to write them or feel this pain, are just so honest and well-spoken...Brienna would be so proud. I also want to thank you for sharing how some of things people ask make you feel. I know I always ask if you're healing at all, etc. and I just want you to know never expect you to "move on" or heal so-to-speak, but I never knew how to put into words how to ask you. And "incorporating grief into everyday life" is exactly what I've been trying to say. Thank you for sharing.
ReplyDeleteYou're a remarkable mother and I know Brienna is looking down on you and proud of her Mom. I love you and am thinking of you, Pat and Brienna constantly.