Tuesday, January 29, 2013
For the past few days, I've had the urge to write. I sit down and open a new page but nothing comes. I have so many things on my mind, but no clear way to get them out. So I just walk away.
I am S L O W L Y trying to figure out how to live in this life of mine. What do I do now? Who am I now? How can I move forward with such a huge hole in my heart and an unsettled soul? That's exactly how I feel. My soul is torn between two places. I'm unsettled.
I think that's why I have a hard time sleeping. There is always a feeling of being lost/disconnected/unsettled. I'm not sure that feeling will ever leave me. He will always be there and I here.
I feel empty so much of the time. My purpose in life has been stolen from me. I should be busy. I should be mothering and feeding and cleaning and teaching. Instead...nothing. I mother a baby who is not here. That's so very hard to do. I have endless amounts of love and energy to put into him and no real way to give it to him. Like a missile whose target has vanished, my mothering has no where to land. It just keeps searching and searching but there is no Samuel to be found.
So I'm empty and unsettled.
I'm trying to put energy into the group I started for families like us, who carry to term after a fatal diagnosis. (All That Love Can Do.) The Facebook page is growing in numbers and I'm just starting to feel like we might actually be able to help people. That feels nice (although I would gladly trade it all for Samuel). I didn't want to lead a group, I wanted to be a mama to a living baby. But it's a way to bring meaning to his beautiful life, so I'm doing it for him <3
Yesterday, I tried to run some errands. Typically, I prefer to just stay home. It's not safe out there, with all the pregnant bellies and babies at every turn. I just don't fit into life anymore. Eventually, though, you just have to get some things.
As I stood in line at the post office, two friends met up in line and started talking about their kids and families and such. I got to thinking how I will never be able to share about Samuel. I will never be like them.
I think once your baby dies, it's kind of like you have started speaking a new language. The people around you don't know it, so they can't really communicate with you. You can try to explain things over and over again, but you always know it's just not really landing. (Even though some people do their best to try to learn). You wander around life, feeling disconnected from everything and everyone. You just don't fit anymore.
I think that's why babyloss friends are so important. When you hear another babyloss parent speaking the same language, it's such a huge relief! Finally, someone to talk to; someone who understands instantly.
I'm grateful for my friends and family who have done their very best to try to imagine how hard this is for us. Who never try to push us or criticize our grief. Who just listen and love. Those are the people I want in my life.
I'm going to keep trying to figure out this new life of mine. I'm trying to figure out how to fit into a world that's been irreparably skewed. It's going to take a lot of time and I'm not going to push myself hard. I'm going to take small steps. And that's perfectly ok.