Ugh - knowing I can't do this one more day and also knowing that I have to is TORTURE. How can I even do this one more day? Even one more day will take all of the strength that I can muster. Having to do this for my whole lifetime = Impossible. Am I repetitive or what? Imagine being in my head! It never stops....which is why every hour is torture. Nobody should feel this much pain. NOBODY. Still, there are people all over the world who have lost children, and I marvel at them. I read about how they continue on with their lives somehow and I know I cannot do it. Could it be that I am the weakest person who has suffered this tragedy? Or, is it that everyone feels like I do but they also have no choice? It is probably the latter.
I have an ongoing fantasy. It is me, at the end of my life. I am lying in a bed, old and dying, and I am happy...looking forward to what comes next, knowing I will finally be reunited with my baby. My eyes have grown weary and I need no more strength to get through my days, because I know that there are no more days to suffer through. I am having deathbed visions of Maxie coming to me, welcoming me to come with him, to spend all of the rest of eternity by his side.
If only I could fast forward time and be there now. It is so cruel that I have to wait to get there. If I knew that was coming, perhaps I could begin to enjoy the time spent waiting. I think about the years before I met Ted, never knowing if I would meet him. While I enjoyed those years a lot, the uncertainty of whether I would ever find my life's partner always made me uneasy. At a certain point, I just decided to believe it would happen, and it did. Ted believes that we will be reunited with Max. He doesn't even question it. To question it would be too terrible to even think about, he says. I am a born skeptic though and I can't just believe. This is why I am finally convinced that faith is important. I don't care what the faith is but it is vital to have some kind of faith to make it through a tragedy like this. If I can hang on to my fantasy: when I feel that I KNOW Max will be with me again, my breath comes a little easier. Another piece of my new normal - the skeptical self must be laid to rest before she just dies of hopelessness.
I am jealous of the old people I see. I am sad for those that fear death. This probably sounds insensitive to the sick and dying and I am so, so sorry. Sometimes I envy them. Waking up every morning and knowing I have to do this again, and then again, and then again, and then every day from now on...it's just a nightmare. If I ever had to go through this again, I know I wouldn't make it. I am constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. I have to start making an effort to believe the tragedy in our lives ends with Max and that we will see him again and that time it will last for eternity. I can actually feel his weight in my arms when I think about taking him out of his car seat and carrying him into daycare. I love him and long for him so much. I can't believe I have to do this again today.
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I think the key here is that everyone grieves differently. Don't mistake the outward appearance of "moving on" as a sign of doing well and forgetting about the tragedy. I had a choice-succumb to the horror or be there for my surviving son and the child I carried. Although there were days that I wanted to give in, I made myself outwardly strong for them. I am a big fan of faking it until I make it.
Hi Abs,
I had a dream about you last night, and I know from your blog that you take dreams as seriously as I do. I think about you and how sorry I am for your loss nearly every single day, but I haven't done enough to tell you that. I love you and I love beautiful Max that I never got to meet--but will never forget.
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