It has been four years, five
months, three weeks, and six days since I touched my daughter.
That's what the tiny Lillypie ticker at the bottom of my page says.
So, where am I today?
I am o.k. I go days without crying. I go days without dwelling on losing her. I can sleep. What ifs are generally a thing of the past. I don't replay the moments of her life in my mind.
I am o.k. Average. There's more to me than being a woman who lost a baby.
Am I the same as I was before
this happened?
In many ways, yes. Trauma is supposed to bring out bravery and a new lease on life, but loss did not make me a hero. For a while it made me very bitter. I thought I was supposed to be doing something with my time, something monumental. Everyone else had these great ideas. Started up charitable organizations. They seemed to be doing amazing things in their baby's memories, and here I was just trying to make sure that my kids had clean clothes on every day.
I still have all of the same bad habits, and there are times when I don't embrace every second.
Has anything changed?
Yes. I think twice before I turn away from my children. I understand what it means to spend a last minute with someone. I hate to say it, but I'm more fearful. I worry about my family more.
But -- counteracting that fear
is a faith which is growing in leaps and bounds. I find myself yielding to
grace in a less complicated way. It has taken me a while to get here; four
years, five months, three weeks, and six days to be exact. I am less angry with
God. More accepting of His will. I am more accepting He knows my entire
story, even the difficult parts, and it's part of a plan.
Where am I today? I suppose that I'm where I should be. Less grief stricken. Less edgy. Less raw.
This year would have been the year she began kindergarten, and as long as I don't think too pointedly on that, then I think I'll be just fine.
That's what the tiny Lillypie ticker at the bottom of my page says.
So, where am I today?
I am o.k. I go days without crying. I go days without dwelling on losing her. I can sleep. What ifs are generally a thing of the past. I don't replay the moments of her life in my mind.
I am o.k. Average. There's more to me than being a woman who lost a baby.
In many ways, yes. Trauma is supposed to bring out bravery and a new lease on life, but loss did not make me a hero. For a while it made me very bitter. I thought I was supposed to be doing something with my time, something monumental. Everyone else had these great ideas. Started up charitable organizations. They seemed to be doing amazing things in their baby's memories, and here I was just trying to make sure that my kids had clean clothes on every day.
I still have all of the same bad habits, and there are times when I don't embrace every second.
Has anything changed?
Yes. I think twice before I turn away from my children. I understand what it means to spend a last minute with someone. I hate to say it, but I'm more fearful. I worry about my family more.
Where am I today? I suppose that I'm where I should be. Less grief stricken. Less edgy. Less raw.
This year would have been the year she began kindergarten, and as long as I don't think too pointedly on that, then I think I'll be just fine.
- Tuesday, June 09, 2015
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