It has been 2 years, 1 month, and 3 weeks since instead of bringing home my son, we came home to his empty room that he would never fill.
The grief is different, I don’t live with it in the forefront of my mind daily. The times that it hits are less frequent. But today as I was enjoying a cool summer night, walking my dog, it hits me square in the chest. Even after 2 years, it comes at a time like always that I least expect it. My body is drastically different physically after Owens traumatic delivery. It was this aspect as I was walking, that my world came crashing down again in a way all to familiar, but still worse than I could almost stand to bear. These times of grief still feel like being hit by a semi. The darkness of loss threatens to pull my down into the depths of despair. This was a place I lived in for months and months after Owens death. One I never thought I would get out of. But now this is a place that I feel is even darker because I don’t visit it as often. The nature of my body now, during this walk, brought me back to the day Owen was born. These are the moments I don’t relive anymore. I cannot let myself go there. They are the darkest moments of my entire life. But as my heart is forever changed by Owens life and death, my body is too, so there are some times that I cannot stop the flashbacks of those moments. And so on this walk my chest hurts again. I forgot this recently all to familiar feeling. My breath feels like the wind got knocked out of me. I look to the sky and ask for the millionth time, “WHY GOD?!” I again feel so small and so alone and just so broken. My world feels in shambles, I question how I can even go on.
Coming out on the other side of this evening of grief, as dark as it still is, shows me some things. It shows me how far I truly have come. Again, farther than i thought possible. It shows me that I can choose to push back the moments of Owens life that hold nothing but pure sorrow and that’s ok. I still live missing him, will miss him for a lifetime, but it’s ok that I don’t visit these darkest moments. It reminds me that though grief is something that I will always walk with, I CAN walk with it. It is a part of me, but does not define me. Also the darkness of these times makes me thankful that I don’t live in them anymore.
You might ask what do I do when these moments hit. The answer is always the same. The only way to go thru grief is to live it. This time I get myself back home. Being around my family always hastens the retreat of the darkness. And this time through the grief, I type these words. The only way I have found healing is by helping others. So I hope this gives hope to those reading this that these times that you live in now will get easier. At some point you will be able to climb out of the pit of darkness and see more light each day. You will even, after a few years be able to walk around the pit of grief, only falling in occasionally and rarely as deep as you did at the beginning. And as I type these words know that if I can make it, you can too.