Sep 19, 2021
1 mins read
When I try to categorize all of the impossible pieces of losing a child, I've realized they are all tied for 1st. They are all so hard.
I'd have to say that the number one hardest part about losing a child is that life continues to happen. It doesn't stop when you lost a child, but I am frozen in time. The trauma I have experienced watching my child take his last breath just 6 days after he entered the hospital for what I thought was dehydration has demolished me.
I'm not trying to stay stuck but my mind keeps replaying the hospital. I can't shut it off.
Sometimes you wish that life could just take it easy on you because you are doing your best to keep your head above water. In the past, a flat tire would frustrate me, but now, it derails me. My brain is in trauma and in addition, our world is in trauma. It is making my personal grief that much more difficult.
As we all know, we don't get a free pass on trials and tribulations. Maybe what we have been going through is just life but I can barely process the last thing before the next thing attempts to cut me off at the knees. I believe it is also my perception that is skewed now. What I believe about life has changed since my son died.
I literally can not get involved with events that are on the fringe, for me but in the forefront for everyone else in the world. My world revolves around my children. I have given my everything to them since they were in the womb. When your child dies, that love does not disappear. It still needs some place to go. This is why I pour my feelings into my writing.
I am never prepared for the waves that can crash down on me. Those waves come unexpectedly and knock me off balance and I'm always trying to re-gain my footing. Some days, it may look better than others. Some days I can do it better than other days.
It is in my nature to keep fighting and to never give up. That doesn't mean that there aren't days that it feels like the easier option.