I just lost my beautiful baby girl. She was only 19 days old. When she died, I lost my hopes, dreams, future as well as part of myself. Ater she died, I learned it was because of a rare genetic disorder called Incontinentia Pigmenti, which she inherited from me. I never knew I had it as I have no symptoms. With IP the chances of having a healthy child are only 50%. This is my life without my baby. My struggle to face every day as I long for my daughter and hope for a healthy child.
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Going In Circles...
I wanted to write an update on how I feel & where I am right now. I wanted to write something new, something profound, so eloquently put together with beautiful words and meaning. I wanted to write something smart and wise, some advice to another grieving parent. But I can't. I have nothing new to say. I'm exactly where I was before, where I left off. At times I make progress, I start to feel a little more whole again, a less displaced and less fragmented version of myself. Some days I even wake up happy and look forward to the day. I laugh, get excited for whats to come, our future, I get a spring in my step. Then a comment, a sound, a sight, a memory or an encounter will set me back. I fall. I revert back to the darkness, the pain where nothing can help. For minutes, hours or even days I remain here. Then somehow I become stronger again, in charge of my emotions, feelings. I again am able to carry the weight of it all again..to be ok, or as ok as I can possibly be....Then bamm.. I fall again and crumble into a million tiny pieces....
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4 comments:
Oh, yes, and the circles continue and continue. Before experiencing child loss, I knew enough to say the phrase "grief is a roller coaster" but had absolutely NO idea what that experience would actually entail. It does evolve, though, and after a year I can say that the baseline is getting gentler and the triggers are (usually) fewer than before. Peace and hugs to you.
My husband described it like bobbing in the ocean, never knowing when you will have air or you will be pulled under by another wave. I think the ocean allows you to come up for air and feel some goodness just when you need it the most in the beginning. I agree with SG that as time passes (and you allow yourself to cry and scream and write--and laugh and smile) that the ocean does get a little gentler and the periods of being able to breath last a little longer.
Thank you both. Reading these comments, that others feel like this, makes me feel a little less alone...I wish we weren't all going through this.
Zita, you've taken the words right out of my mouth. This is exactly how i'm feeling too. It's one minute to the next lately. One minute i'm smiling, the next i'm in tears. I want to write something, to get the words out of my head, to release some feelings from my heart but when I do the words are tangled and confusing.
You're not alone. I'm nodding along to your words and always listening.
Sending love x
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