Child Loss and the True Reality

It was never supposed to happen. You know, that day, two of my children left their bodies and my life. But it did happen, and it stinks. It’s a reality of life and the price of love. I get that, but it still stinks. A grieving mother is haunted by birthdays that won’t be the same, holidays that never feel holy and people who think we are supposed to “pull ourselves together “ and get on with life like nothing happened.

Honestly, life will never be the same. It doesn’t matter how others think that we should just get over it. We don’t. Sometimes I hate that others can be happy because they don’t have the hole in their heart like mine. I can’t stand being judged because I’m supposed to be over it all by now. I hate that my tears are just too inconvenient for other people. Really?
I can’t stand that I make decisions to satisfy everyone else and then feel regret I made a commitment I could never possibly fulfill. No one gets it unless they have been there.

No one understands there will never come a day when the heartbreak will end. Love is endless, so the feelings of loss are endless as well. It’s an isolating feeling that those who don’t share my experience think I’m being selfish because I need my “me” time, and catering to their needs is not something I can always be capable of. Gee, I’d love to accommodate, but sometimes I just can’t.

I want to scream, “Is my mother’s aching heart too inconvenient for you?” Believe me, it’s no thrill for me at all. I don’t want pity, and I sure don’t want to be told to just pull myself up and get on with life. Grieving the loss of a child is done with a lot of quiet time, reflection time, and many tearful nights. Oh, sometimes I laugh, get back to business, and sometimes I even seem like life has returned to normal, and I’m me again. I am me, just broken and searching for some way to live life with purpose while aching simultaneously.

I’m not weak, and I’m not here to put anyone out. I’m the strongest person you will ever know who has been given the most impossible task of building a bridge between the loss of two children and the life I still want to live. So if you are tempted to criticize, hold your tongue. I don’t need it nor want it. Nor do I need your pity. I’m the strongest person you will ever meet because I live the impossible. Nothing on earth can top this, and nothing can stop me. Nothing could ever feel this bad. It’s like I could endure the greatest earthly fire because nothing can top this seemingly endless pain. It’s not encouraging, but what is powerful is my new reality. No one can stop me or emotionally strip me down. I’m as far as I can go, and I’m still breathing. So life can take its best shot. Hanging over the edge will no longer scare me. Sorry.

Loving you from here,

Jenine Marie