Year Four

Wednesday, December 18, 2013

I survived.

Beatrix's third birthday came and went, and I am still here.

Once upon a time, I stood in awe of those women who lost their babies long ago, and were still functioning (and happy). Now- I am one of them.

I am functioning.

Most of the time I am even happy. I only seem to come back to this place when I have had a rough day. 

Unfortunately that gives off the impression that I am floating through life, still in that mystifying place where the loss is so scorching.

But I'm not there- once in a great while the hurt rears it's ugly head. But I'm generally on speaking terms with even the most difficult parts of my experience.

I stopped buying items to remember her with (except for this- because I so wanted it).

I stopped feeling like I had to work her into every single conversation that I had.

I stopped crying every day.  

Then, I stopped crying every week.

Then, I stopped crying every month.

(I can't promise more than that...)

Recently I pulled out my medical records from my pregnancy and there was a moment when I had a flash of that hope - the hope that I had held onto for so long- and that was a sad day . 

A very sad day.

I remembered who I was before this happened and I mourned the loss of that girl as well as the loss of my Beatrix.

I still have some issues with sleep and I don't think I will ever get over my fears for my children. My frustration level is also quite high - but I just want to put it out there to anyone reading this, who is going through the same thing. 

It does get better.  I used to think that was a lie. 

It's not.

It's not that I don't think about her. I think about her all the time. Non-stop, every day she is on my mind. It's just that it's ok to think about her. 

Much of this probably has to do with acceptance. Acceptance that there really wasn't anything that doctors could do (although writing that out it still seems to be a lie, somewhere deep down inside.)

Much of it probably has to do with time- I just don't have the time to grieve so deeply any longer. I have work, and children, and the days grow shorter and shorter- and every day I am one step closer to her.

I have also come to realize that moving closer to her also means moving closer to my own end- and that there is a danger of her becoming an "idol", if I am not careful. 

Reuniting with her should not be the primary reason that I look forward to my exit from this world.

I am ending this now- I have more to write on other subjects that would not be appropriate if enjoined with this.

This is more of a "where I am" statement, for myself. Just to mark how far I have come. A "where I am" statement to let anyone who comes across it see that it does get better.

I didn't believe that, but it really does.

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