It occured to me today that there is alot of my life, before loss, that I miss alot. I’m not sure how much of it is my ADHD/depression/anxiety, and how much of it is missing my Tzeitel, and how much of it is a combination of both, but there is definitely alot that has changed. I miss the spunk that I used to have, the get up and go. Sure, I would have days that I felt lazy and didn’t want to do anything, but usually the next day I’d wake up and feel better. Now those days drag on for weeks. I miss wanting to clean and care for my home, to want to provide healthy, home cooked food for my family. Now I do those things, but with dread and without wanting to. I miss my innocence of thinking that having children could be an easy process, and that I’d get to bring that child home.
Part of my feeling this way today is because I recently found out that there is a support group for bereaved parents in our area. I had been told for a year and a half that there wasn’t. I was over the moon to find out. Then… I got my first newsletter in the mail from them today. It is pretty much completely aimed at parents who lost their children as children or adults. The meeting list coming up featured themes such as “Your child’s posession” and “small groups about the cause of death”. I have not felt angry towards my situation until today. It makes me angry that a group like this is necessary. It makes me angry that this particular group isn’t able to cater to pregnancy and infant loss. It makes me angry that I am not able to take the training yet to be able to start a PAIL specific group. I am not angry at anyone person, and definitely not angry at God, just at the situation.
Christmas is coming up. This has always, always, ALWAYS been my favorite time of year. We got married 4 days after Christmas, because I LOVE this time of year. BUT. I should have an 11 month old baby tottering around, getting into things, sampling yummy foods. And instead, I have empty arms and an empty place in my heart. Her due date is less than a month after Christmas, and only 10 days after my birthday. Each and every day I have to get up, and choose joy. Let me explain this. Joy does not mean I’m happy. Most days it takes alot to muster up happy. Joy means that I know that my God reigns and that He knows how my story will end. Joy means that no matter how my day goes, God is still in charge, and I will follow Him, to the best of my abilities. Praise God for joy. It only comes through Him.
I am going to try to start blogging on a more regular basis. To get my feelings out. To help others to understand what it’s like to live after loss. To help others to realize that there is LIFE after loss. To help others to know that JOY comes only from God. ❤