Friday, January 7, 2011

Forever Changed

As I sit and look out of my living room window at the peacefulness of the snow falling lightly this morning, I can't help but wonder if my life will ever become peaceful again.  One never appreciates what they have until it is gone.  I have learned this several times over the past seven months. 

Funny how when we are children we wish we were adults, then when we are adults we wish just the opposite.  It seems to be this way for a lot in our lives.  We wish we could be rich, but then it only causes other issues.  We want a bigger house or a nicer car but that brings larger payments of money that we don't have.  We always think the grass is greener on a different side, but that is never the case. 

I had a melt down last night.  One the caused the "peacefulness" of the past two months to end abruptly.  Yesterday was seven month since I saw my son for the first time.  There was not one mention of his name from anyone, minus words on Facebook.  Understanding that it was the seventh month mark and not a huge milestone, I didn't expect much, but to me it was still the sixth, and no one bothered to mention his name.   I feared this day more than any.  The day his name would go unsaid. 

I have dealt with the pain of learning the perfect pregnancy was coming to a wrongful end.  I have lived through the grief of losing my child.  I survived many months of agony, as special dates such as his baby shower, his due date, the first holiday he was to be with us, the six month mark, and even Christmas all came and passed without him. 

Yesterday, however, hurt.  It was another date that should have been remembered.  One that meant something to me.  One that was spent thinking of how there are only five months until his one year. To me it was like I had hit the downhill side of things.  And as I said before, the grass isn't greener on a different side.

Yesterday, I came across a post a friend had found and it was perfect.  Perfect timing, the wording was just right, and it said everything that it needed to say... Here it is:

How Grief Feels
by Heather on January 5, 2011

You have a lump in your throat.
You’re nauseous.
The wind is knocked out of you.
Every inch of your body hurts, even your hair.
Yet you feel like your limbs aren’t attached to your torso.
All you want to do is sleep, but closing your eyes brings horrible images.
You scream, but your voice is gone.
Crying hurts.
Breathing hurts.
Living hurts.
Your head is splitting, and your ears are ringing.
There are bruises on your knees from being knocked to the ground.
You carry 1,000 pounds on your shoulders 24 hours a day.
You’re exhausted.
People speak around you, but you feel like you’re in a bubble.
There is always a sense of dread.
Your heart is broken.
You feel all of this all the time.
And yet…
This is only the tip of how grief feels.

This post reminded me that I have passed the tip of grief.  I am somewhere closer to the middle now, the point where I can provide my story to others, look back and see improvement, and begin to focus on a new little life who is currently developing, thanks to little Wyatt.  Though I am doing better than what I was while I was standing (well more like kneeling) at the tip of grief, I can say that the grass still isn't greener.  Just like life, grief is no different.  The grass isn't and will never be greener on a different side.  How could it be, when my son still isn't here with me. 

So, I suppose I can answer my very own question.  No, life will never be as peaceful as it was before.  I will always feel that lump in my throat, the sense of dread when I think of the fact that he is gone, and the broken heart that will be carried forever.  Just like when one realizes the grass is not greener, I have realized that my life will never be the same.  I am forever changed. 


Whittney said...

Hi girl. 7 months was really hard for me too. Owen would have been 7 months old on Christmas Eve and sometimes there are just those days when all of it slaps you in the face... How different life should be at this moment. I am sorry that it went unnoticed and that we both don't have 7 month old baby boys in our arms.

Danielle said...

Hi Megan. Thinking of you and sweet Wyatt. I completely understand...A couple of Aaron's milestones have not been acknowledged, and I honestly don't think many of them would be if I didn't post about them on my blog or's always hard. I think a lot of people won't be mention our boys names for fear of "reminding us of them" if we never think of them. How do we let people know that we think about them ALL THE TIME?!?

I'm sorry Wyatt's seven-month mark when unnoticed. I know it's not much of a consolation, but I think about Wyatt, you and your new little miracle often. Hugs and love to you, my friend.

Melissa said...

It is funny how now we are somewhat on the other side of that intense, heavy grief isn't it? I agree though, we are forever changed and life will never look the same. I am thinking of you and your new little one often, and tonight of Wyatt too. I hope he and Mikayla are having a little Heavenly cupcake for what should be the celebration with us of their 7th month here on Earth.