Who I Used to Be

April 21

I feel like I need a vacation from all this grief. Not a literal vacation (although that would help) but just letting someone look after my loss for a little while so I can feel normal again. I want to be me again so badly. I want to laugh without regret and smile without hesitation. I want to go to the store without fear and look at babies without judgement.

I was such a vibrant person... I think so at least. I used to play in the rain with the children and be so passionate about the things that made me happy. This burden of grief is so heavy. It's like I'm bent over due to the weight and all I can see is the ground. I see others around me but only their feet. My own feet are the only things I see most of the time. Each foot takes one step and then another. I have no idea where I'm going because I can't see that far. Sometimes I can see others but usually only because they are also carrying this giant burden called grief. Or maybe some of them have carried grief before and know how to stoop down to see me in a way that I can see them too. But no one can carry my grief for me. I have to grieve. If I let someone else borrow it, it will only feel heavier later. But as I continue to carry it, the hope is that I'll get stronger. Sometimes I will get sore and tired. The grief may even crush me when it's too heavy. Hopefully though, my muscles will get stronger. I will start to walk a little more upright. The grief will never get smaller. I will only get more used to carrying it. Some days I may feel stronger than others. Some days more will be piled onto my already heavy grief such as holidays and other babies. But that's just how it goes.

I saw a scripture in a new light today. This was already my favorite chapter in the Book of Mormon. In 2 Nephi 2:23 it states, "And they would have had no children; wherefore they would have remained in a state of innocence, having no joy, for they knew no misery..." Do you see it? Let me help... "And they would have had no children...having no joy, for they knew no misery" Adam and Eve could not have joy nor misery without children. Without them there is no such thing as joy. Those without children are yet to experience true joy nor true misery. Now I might be ruffling some feathers, especially for those who have not been able to have children. I believe the desire for children qualifies as the pursuit of joy and therefor can feel the misery association without literally having them. But those who have not had a desire for children nor who have become a parent do not know joy in it's fullest form.

I hope all are able to reach this state of true joy. Unfortunately and fortunately, the joy does come with misery. Right now, that is all I feel. Joy has become a slingshot into misery. I hope no one else experiences this. I know I will get to joy one day again and I won't always be thrown back into misery. I don't expect it to be anytime soon. But hopefully, just maybe, I might start to find myself again.

With love,

Addison's Mommy

19 likes

Jenny Steinmetz: This is amazing. You amaze me. Your words amaze me. I had nowhere near this kind of understanding of my grief when I lost my first tiny baby, and even after losing three I never did quite have the words or the confidence to share my feelings. I felt ashamed of my grief, like it was wrong to be so devastated over babies who were almost too tiny to see or hold. I hope that no matter what anyone says to you, that you NEVER feel ashamed of your grief or believe that it makes you less of a person. In fact, you are more of a person. You are a mother to a perfect daughter and a parent to a child who died, which is much more than you were before, and much more than most people will ever have to become. Someone once explained to me that grief is like a shadow of the joy a mother would have felt if she had not lost her child...In other words, whatever you experience as you grieve and heal (feeling protective of her, having good days and bad days, forgetting certain milestones, dwelling on certain milestones, etc.) reflects the feelings that would have otherwise brought you joy and wonder, but which now bring you sadness and pain. That helped me to feel that what I was going through was normal, that I wasn't "imagining" my grief as if I could just "get over it," just as if no one would think that a new mother was "imagining" her joy. Grief is real, as real as joy. And yes, it is better to pass through sorrow in order to also be able to experience joy, but I don't think we ever "pass through" as if we can be done with it in one go and then "move on" to the joy...we pass through sorrow our entire lives and we will never be free from it in this life, not until our eternal lives begin. I'm sorry this is so long, but I've been feeling I should share some of these thoughts. Much love to you, Nathan, River, and Addison! You are in my thoughts each day.

Emily Rusch: Beautifully stated. I too am amazed at your ability to vocalize your feelings. I saw a glimmer of your true self last night! Laughing, playing and being silly. That girl will come back again. Love you!

Cheryl Solomon Collins: OK I echo "Amazing"! What an insight! I started to think of the joy I felt having my babies, but I didn't know the other side that you and other friends of mine have had. Which also means that the joy in a babies smile will be infinitely greater for you in the future than even I felt.