There are moments since Samuel died, when I get a small flash of who I once was. Maybe it's a picture that brings back memories, maybe it's having a conversation with a friend who brings out the "old me" for a moment, maybe it's my desire to have back the carefree life I once had. Whatever it is, it's like a flash of color in a very grey world.
Ever since he died, my world is dark and grey. Things don't feel special, food tastes bland, music sounds empty. I look around and only see, and feel, grey.
When I have those moments of the "old me", it's like this little spark of color, dashed in with the grey. Maybe, it's hope. Maybe it's a bit of healing. Maybe it's just a little glimmer of the happiness that's so far buried under the massive pile of grief. I really don't know.
In the early months, when I would feel a bit of peace, I would immediately feel like I was betraying Samuel. I didn't fight it, but my mind immediately went down a path of guilt. "Well, I guess I didn't love him, I guess I'm over his death, I guess I'm a horrible mother".
Now, I know so well that those moments/days of "calm" are really just a small gift. A day of much needed respite, before the next wave comes crashing over me. Now, I take the calm and cherish it. Samuel is so love, he was so wanted, that he can never be out of my heart. It would be impossible. Now that I completely understand that, I no longer feel guilty when I have days of calmness.
I've had some completely awful days in the past few weeks. Days where the pain was so intense, I was right back in the thick of my grief. Right back to wanted to just be done, forever. To escape this life that I did not chose, and do not want.
I let it come. I faced it head on. I cried and screamed and sat in a closet. I looked at his pictures and his special things and I deeply felt the lack of him in our lives. My world had turned a darker shad of grey...almost black...but I didn't fight it. I let it come.
This weekend is Easter. Last year, Easter morning was the first of the many times I would be in the hospital, in labor. I guess it's because Easter is not falling on the same date as last year, but I really don't have any strong emotions about it (as of yet). It feels like any other weekend.
I absolutely wish I could be buying my little man a tiny little suit. (This one here is pretty darn cute! or, heaven sakes! this one. ) I imagine he would be taking steps. I imagine him holding his new Easter Basket, in his dapper new suit looking around for his Easter eggs at Gramma's house. It would have be so special.
Instead, we did what we could for him. Bryan and I normally exchange Easter Baskets (my family tradition was to hide them and each person had to find it Easter morning.) but this year, instead, we just filled Samuel's.
|Samuel's Easter Basket. The first Easter card and blue bunny are from Gramma Carlson. The brown beanie bunny is from: Beanie 4 a Baby.|
|the adorable Samuel beanie <3|
I also made an Easter Egg Tree for the babies from the group I run for mother's who continued their pregnancies after a fatal diagnosis (see the Facebook page to find more information)..These are Samuel's friends in heaven <3
It's when I do things for him, that I see the spark of color. I feel a bit of purpose again. That's when I feel a twinge of hope, that maybe we'll find a way to do this.
Maybe, at some point, the world will be filled with color again.
For now though, it's just another weekend of our grey lives. We sure are missing our little Easter Bunny <3.
|Samuel Evan <3|