I’ve been feeling much removed from my grief lately. I’m not sure if it’s because being sad all the time is tiresome and I’m tired of being tired, if I’ve somehow grasped some small amount of control of living in grief or if deciding to take antidepressants has blocked the pain in my heart to reaching my brain. I’m just unsure.
As I sit with Sam at his grave I can’t help but wonder if pregnant women who have been touched by a baby like Sam ever reach thirty six weeks and think, this could be it. Or even more, this is the moment Sam died, and think to themselves what they’d do if their baby died, too.
I’d venture to say my friends with kids have thought a time or two what they’d do if they lost their living children, having watched me navigate through grief over the last two years.
Two years. I sit with Sam and I’m unsure how two years have passed. Holding him, while only for four hours, was the most intense four hours of my life. It simultaneously feels like moments ago and like a lifetime has passed.
I’ve been watching so many of my mama sisters become pregnant and deliver beautiful, thriving rainbow babies and I feel removed and somewhat left alone. What now?
Was I ever met to mother a living child? Will I ever? Can my heart handle another pregnancy? Would that baby die, too? Is my heart numb? It feels numb sometime.
Then I wonder if maybe, the numbness is my spirit protecting itself from my reality because maybe, it’s really hard.
It’s hard to sit at your child’s grave. It’s hard to decorate it for the holidays. It’s hard to wonder how big he’d be or what type of personality he’d have. It’s hard to watch the seasons pass and find anything at a cemetery that will live. Even the flowers, they die.
I’ve been reading John Krakauer’s Into The Wild about Chris McCandless, a college graduate who sold all of his things, left his life behind and forged alone into nature. He ends up dying but I know what he’s chasing. He’s chasing life. Real life. Authentic life. Something for himself.
When I sit outside with Sam, I feel like Chris, connected to what’s real. I see beauty surrounding me and I just want to experience it; if even for a moment.
We will all die. It’s something true for each of us. But it’s in the moments where we let our hearts go into the wild, that we really live.