Lately I cant help but think about last year at this time. I would say emotionally I was just as bad off, maybe worse or maybe a little better depends on the day. See my OB had told us we should wait until Feb. to try again. But as November came around I was in a very bad place and decided to get a second opinion. Right around this time is when another OB told us that physically my body would be fine for another pregnancy and that only Tommy and I could decide when we were ready to try for another baby. December was our first month trying, actually our first and last. On Dec. 23 I took a home pregnancy test thinking there was no way it would be positive it was only our first month and I kept telling myself not to get upset. But there was that word "PREGNANT". I was ecstatic. Hard to believe its a year later and I am once AGAIN in the same shoes I was back then. Another push into "The Pit". Its dark, cold and lonely in "The Pit". I keep seeing all the proud parents showing off pictures of their rainbow babies. So many are going out and getting pictures taken of their little ones and their happy little family. Don't get me wrong I am happy for them but it stings every time I see them. My heart is broken and there is no mending. Sure in time I will once again figure out how to live as a deadbabymama and move forward but once again it will take TIME. Time is a funny thing, as adults we always say that time flies, as children time seemed so slow when we were in school and then flew over summer break. Time sees to stand still when we are eagerly awaiting something. Just hurry up and get here. For me time varies. One day it feels as though it was only yesterday that I held Emma and Logan in my arms. Other days it feel like an eternity. Right now February seems so far, far away. Time...a second, a minute, an hour, a day, a month, a year. No matter what way I look at it right now I only see the darkness of "The Pit". It will take time for me to find my way out again. SIGH...
The day my child died, I fell into the pit of grief. My friends watched me struggle through daily life, waiting for the person I once was to arise from the pit, not realizing "she" is gone forever.
The pit is full of darkness, heartache and despair, it paralyzes your thoughts, movements and ability to ration. The pit leaves you forever changed, unable to surface the person you once were.
Some of my pre-grief friends gather around the top of the pit, waiting for the old me to appear before their eyes, not understanding what's taking me so long to emerge. After all, in their eyes, I've been in the pit for quite sometime. Yet in my eyes, it seems as if I fell in only yesterday.
Not all of my pre-grief friends are gathered around the top of the pit. Some are helping me with the climb out of the darkness. They climb side by side with me from time to time, but mostly they climb ahead of me, waiting patiently at each plateau. Even with these friends I sometimes wonder if they are also waiting for the pre-grief me to magically appear before their eyes.
Then there are the casual acquaintances, you know the ones who say, "Hi, how are you?" when they really don't care or really want to know. These are the people who sigh in relief, that it is my child who died and not theirs. You know...the "better them, than me" attitude.
My post-grief friends (and a rare pre-grief friend) are the ones who climb with me, side by side, inch by inch, out of the pit with me. They are able to reassure me when I need reassurance, rest when I need resting, and encourage me to move forward when I don't have the strength. They have no expectations, no memories and no recollection of how I "should" be. They want me to get better, to smile more often and find joy in life, but they also accepted the person I've become. The "person" who is emerging from the pit.
I am wearing a pair of shoes
They are ugly shoes
I hate my shoes
Each day I wear them, and each day I wish I had another pair.
Some days my shoes hurt so bad that I
do not think I can take another step.
Yet, I continue to wear them
I get funny looks wearing these shoes
They are looks of sympathy
I can tell in others eyes that they are glad
they are my shoes and not theirs
They never talk about my shoes
To learn how awful my shoes are
might make them uncomfortable
To truly understand these shoes
you must walk in them
But once you put them on, you can never take them off
I realize that I am not the only one
who wears these shoes
There are many pairs in the world
Some woman are like me and ache
daily as they walk in them
Some have learned how to walk in them
so that they don't hurt quite so much
Some have worn the shoes so long
that days will go before they think
about how much they hurt.
No woman deserves to wear these shoes
Yet, because of these shoes I am a stronger woman
These shoes have given me strength
to face anything
They have made me who I am
I will forever walk in the shoes of a woman who has lost a child.
- Author Unknown -
Thanks for reading and listening. Going to try and get some sleep. Night...