I don’t know why this little spot has become so hard for me to write in lately. I sit and stare at this screen, thoughts racing of, “You’ve already said/written that. No one wants to hear it again. Move on. It’s been a year.” I am only able to write one day of the hospital story because the others are still overwhelming to process.
One week from today is the day my water broke with the twins. The day my life changed forever, and yet there was still more of that to come.
I saw my therapist this past Friday and as we chatted about how I was doing and our little boy (now 22 weeks!), I struggled with this feeling that seems to underly all my emotions lately.
“I’m so tired of grieving.”
Instantly the guilt poured down on me. I explained (although she knew) that it wasn’t that I was tired of my sons or their story, but I was tired of the rest. The constant struggle to get past these thoughts and memories that still bring a lot of heartache. I wish somehow the grief process could be sped up – and I’ve wished that since I lost them. Like you just wake up one day and can think about what you lost without it smacking you in the face or causing you to have to re-process it all again.
There are days like that. More and more. It’s just soooooo slow and in the meantime there is a part of me that would like for this to be over.
As their year birth/death anniversary comes up, I feel a obligation to “do” something. I don’t really want to. Isn’t that terrible? I just want to skip that day or have it happen but not be sad. Which isn’t possible at this point, and my therapist is quick to assure me that’s normal. First anniversaries of loss are never easy. Everyone does it differently. I know we’ll do something, I’m just not sure of what. Not doing anything that day would haunt me more later than the quick relief trying to skip it would ever bring.
I turn to her over and over still for reassurance that I’m ok, that I’m doing alright with this. So as not to hurt our life, my husband, my daughter, their memories, this little boy. I still have very little idea how to do grief, but I’m getting so much stronger in the knowledge that there are many, many ways. The perfectionist in me wants to do this 100% textbook but obviously grief isn’t like that.
This has been a hard year emotionally. While this pregnancy has made some things easier, it has also made some much harder. I’m getting to a point where I realize again I never felt or got to experience things with them. Baby showers, big kicks, 3D ultrasounds, buying things, planning. We’d just passed the, “I’m in shock it’s two/I’m going to die from being so sick” and then they were gone.
I still ache for them. I still miss what never was. I stumble on something we saved and it crosses my mind, “I’ll put this away for them!” only to remember that they’ll never be here to have it. So I plan for our third little boy to have it instead, as a reminder of how all of them are part of our family, no matter where their souls are.
I am tired of the process of grieving, the energy it takes. Yet I look back and realize just how far I’ve come in nearly a year. I made it. I survived. We’re still a family, they’re not forgotten, and we’ve found hope and joy in a new life on its way. That’s amazing to me. So even though I’d give nearly anything for this emotional process to be over, I take each step forward (and sometimes back) and keep my eyes on the road ahead.
One day there will be no more sadness. No more tears. And we will all be together. Until then, blessed be this broken, and yes – beautiful, journey I’ve been placed on.