Thursday, February 28, 2013

What's normal now

Have you ever stopped everything you're doing, sat down, closed your eyes, and really concentrated on how you're feeling? I use to do it every now and then, just to check in with myself, but it's been a long time.

That's what I did this morning. I cleared my head and pondered the question, "How am I feeling?"

I searched deeply and came to one conclusion. I'm empty. I feel numb.

My life has become unrecognizable as a life. My days are filled with loneliness and sadness and meaningless tasks. Yes, I can feel okay. Yes, I can feel horrible. But there is no happiness. There is no joy. There is no longer purpose and ambition. There is a void. It's in the shape of a little brown-eyed boy that's always missing. Every moment of every day. For the rest of my life.

What's left is a shell of who I once was. A person not living, but existing. A person just trying to make it through to the end.

That's what happens when your baby dies.

Babies are hope and life, future and purpose, joy and meaning. The death of a baby is the end of those things.

I looked down deep and came up empty. There is not much left of who I once was. I know too much now. I know that happily ever after is a myth. I know pregnancies end and babies die and love can't save anyone. I know that prayer doesn't change the outcome, only the perspective.

Now that I know these things, there is no going back.

My life right now is long nights and empty days. It's a world of only online friends who have also lost a baby. It's a word of "normal" people who have no clue what I'm feeling. It's a world of babies, and mine was stolen. How do I ever fit back in?

For the past 10 months, I have cocooned myself away. I know that has been my saving grace. I've shut out people who don't get it, and anyone who refuses to face our pain. I've cut out people who are hurtful and rude and ignorant with their ideas/comments. I've blocked out most everyone who has a healthy baby. Why? Because my fragile heart can't take it.  Because I did nothing wrong and they did nothing right. Death has taken what's mine and I am defenseless. So I protect my heart with the utmost caution.

Normal for me is living life with a piece forever missing. It's learning how to incorporate the hurt into everything I do and everywhere I go.

Normal, for me, is waking up every day to a home without his sounds and smells and needs.

It's just another day, in another month. This will never go away.

This little guy is always missing.

My little love <3


1 comment:

  1. I have never read a more accurate description of what that hole in the heart feels like.

    Even after all this time, I remember feeling exactly that way. Take hope, I don't feel that very often anymore. Sometimes my arms still ache to hold him... but somewhere on the journey God filled my heart with other things and a new purpose.

    (sorry if I post again, I'm catching up on a few weeks of your blog)

    Praying for you and Bryan to gain peace. Knowing how hard those birthdays are... the always remembering when others don't seem to want to. Only my parents tried to understand, they didn't really understand, but all we can really hope for is that they try. Consider too that it may be better if people feel too awkward to say anything, cuz I remember some of the REALLY DUMB stuff people would say.


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