So here’s the thing: I’m almost a month late writing this post. Yeah, I’ve been busy, sure, it’s hard to find time to write when you’ve got a 4-month-old at home. But the real reason I am so late is that I feel like I have nothing to say.
You’d think that would be a good thing. I mean after my daughter died, I remember just begging to feel ‘normal’ again. The pain was so raw, so intense, so all-consuming. Hardly a moment went by that I didn’t feel sad. That I didn’t think about her.
A picture I took of myself 4 weeks after Stevie was stillborn.
My life has been so full of joy and happiness these days. I’m just going to be honest here: I don’t think about my daughter nearly as much as I used to. I haven’t had those red, puffy eyes from the picture above in I don’t even know how long. I should be grateful, right?
Maybe, but I really just feel like crap about it. I find myself feeling so incredibly guilty for not feeling sad more often. Sometimes I even feel like I’ve abandoned my little girl by not talking about her, thinking about her, writing to her more. There are days I reread old blog posts from the early days of my grief, look through her pictures, and try to make myself feel sad. Feel something. And of course I do feel sadness, but not that kind of soul-shattering, all I want to do is curl up in a ball and cry my eyes out kind of sadness. My baby, my child is gone–how does that fact alone not bring me to my knees anymore??
I miss the sadness because it made me feel so close to my daughter. In the sadness, we were connected. I crave that connection so much but I fear I’ll never feel it again.
I fear she’s slipping away from me, all over again.
I keep trying to remind myself that one thing I’ve learned in the last two years is that grief is a rollercoaster. It has peaks and valleys; it comes in waves. I guess all I can do right now is try to enjoy this peak I’m resting on and know that one day, Stevie and I will find each other again.