Grief

Grief - I have studied it and talked to many families about it, but nothing has ever prepared me for the overwhelmingness of it. Two weeks ago I was preparing to come home from the hospital with empty arms, arms that are still empty and physically ache to hold my child. It is hard to find the words to explain all of the feelings. There are times when I just feel empty. Other times, I get angry and frustrated. There are moments when I feel like others expect me to just be "over" Ryan. I can't. For 7 months, Ryan was part of me and I carried him. I have come to realize, that I already knew his personality. Ryan was quiet and comfortable. He would have been my cuddler. He didn't move around much, once he found a good spot, he stayed there. He curled his legs up and tucked his head down, but I could find him, and now I can't. I will wake up, expecting and yearning to hear cries of my child, but there will just be silence. We will be doing something as a family and I will realize that someone is missing. I know he is watching over us, but I will be honest, in my mind and heart, he should be here, he belongs with us. I get jealous and sad when I see other young babies, I watch them smile at their parents and I feel robbed. I didn't even get to see my child's eyes. I know I should be grateful for the time I had, and please don't think I am not, but there are so many things I lost. I get frustrated with myself, because I know my grief is affecting my ability to care for Sean. It is a personal struggle, because right now, my thoughts are consumed with Ryan. I love Sean and his sweet smile is a light in the darkness. If it wasn't for Sean and Scott, I doubt I would get out of bed.



I lost my son. My husband lost his son. Sean lost his little brother. We lost his laughter, his smile, his cries. We lost the chance to take him to the park, to take him to football games, to run around the back yard. We lost the opportunity to watch him learn to crawl and walk. When people see us, it is just assumed that we are a family of three, but we are not and we will never be again.



I know Ryan is with God and I am thankful that I will be able to see him again. I do find comfort in knowing that Ryan is healed. But please know that for all the comfort that brings, my arms are empty. I am home on maternity leave, recovering, without a baby. It is not that I just want a baby, I want my son, the son I carried and loved.



I found this quote soon after I learned of Ryan's diagnosis and it spoke to my heart then and I wanted to share it -



"Go ahead and mention my child.

The one that died, you know.

Don't worry about hurting me further.

The depth of my pain doesn't show.

Don't worry about making me cry.

I'm already crying inside.

Help me to heal by releasing the tears that I try to hide.

I'm hurt when you just keep silent,

Pretending he [she] didn't exist.

I'd rather you mention my child,

Knowing he [she] has been missed.

You asked me how I was doing.

I say "pretty good" or "fine".

But healing is something ongoing

I feel it will take a lifetime." ~ Elizabeth Dent