I am with you

A girlfriend of mine recently lost her father.  She is a real daddy's girl and she has been totally distraught since he died.  She told me that she called all of her friends who had lost a father to commiserate, find solace, and try and see what her path might look like further along.  And, that is just it.  There is nobody from my old life for me to call.  I don't know anyone who has lost a baby.  We are part of such an unbelievably small statistic that there is nobody that I can talk to about this who knows me...who knows what "this" is like.  It is so incredibly isolating that when I tell you I have trouble catching my breath sometimes...I literally mean that there are times that I struggle to breathe.  And, to know that in some part, I will be carrying this around for the rest of my life.  It boggles my brain.

I am in a dark place.  I miss Max so much.  I am beside myself that my sweet little boy is not here...that he doesn't get to live a life.  What a waste!  I am sad and angry and I don't trust tomorrow.  And, I want him back so badly.  I love him so much.  And, everyone keeps asking me if I can find any comfort in Mo.  Seems kind of stupid actually.  I LOVE Mo!  He is sweet and smells good and he is funny and easy and perfect.  Max was all of those things too and my beautiful dreams turned into horror!  But, yes, I find tremendous "comfort" in Mo.  As if human emotions were so simplistic that my horror and deep sense of loss for having lost my nine month old baby would somehow turn into an inability to love my second son just as deeply.  I probably cherish my every minute with Mo more than most parents of a six week old second child.

This is complex stuff I am dealing with and you wouldn't know a thing about unless you are one of the statistically unlucky people like me!  I woke up this morning and thought about not writing because I know I am a broken record already.  I know everyone would rather hear fluffy things about Mo than dark things about loss and heartbreak.  But, I also know there ARE other statistically unlucky people who are reading this blog from time to time and I wanted to say that I am still feeling the weight of this traumatic loss every day.  I am not telling you to scare you....I am telling you so that you know that what you are feeling is "normal".  I am as unsettled, as heartbroken and as tired as you are.  I am with you.


Jared Brumbaugh said...

Yes. We are a very small group. Thank You Abby for all your support. I'm extremely unsure about tomorrow. I miss my son every single day and I feel most of the time that I sound like a broken record. We love seen pictures of Mo, but we know that living in this nightmare is constant. Just because there is moments of joy it doesn't mean that all the pain is automatically erase.

Cathy in Missouri said...

I know everyone would rather hear fluffy things about Mo than dark things about loss and heartbreak.


I wouldn't.

I'm thankful - always - that you don't lie, that you tell it like it is. The heartbreak and the joy, living in the same person, never to be split apart.

It is not in the least strange that you feel complete joy with Mo and complete agony without your Maxie. That is truth, whether people like it - or whether they don't.

You never have to shut up, least of all here,

Cathy in Missouri