‘Is it hard for you to talk about?’
I was recently asked this question just seconds before going on television to talk about the Pregnancy and Infant Loss Ceremony I helped plan in October.
What a loaded question to ask someone seconds before going on live television.
Later in the day I watched myself being interviewed and I did actually hold it together and gave a pretty decent interview. But that is because I can’t really, actually let it all sink in.
If and when I let it all out and give my heart and mind the time it needs to grieve, really grieve- the pain is so intense and so hard. And quite obviously hard to talk about.
Four years later I can manage my grief on a daily basis. Most days I get through just fine. And most days I cry in my car on the way to pick up my living children from daycare. I haven’t admitted this to anyone. I have a CD I play over and over again and I know exactly when I need to turn it off so it doesn’t look like I’ve been crying when I pick up the kids.
It’s pretty much become routine to me. I get up, get the kids to daycare, work throughout the day, cry on the way back to daycare, and then finish the day with my little family.
But the grief, the really deep, hard grief doesn’t come too much anymore. I think it’s because sometimes I just can’t wrap my head around it anymore. It’s like I can’t imagine that I have lived through it all. A very wise women once said that the mind, to protect it’s sanity covers wounds with scar tissue, but the wound always remains (Rose Kennedy).
My mind still does need to reopen those wounds, and I think it always will. I feel like the deep, deep pain brings me closer to my son. It is the glue that holds my bond to him. I am sure that most grief professionals wouldn’t agree, but I still need and completely accept that type of pain. Most of the time I can give my grief a healthy outlet through the various healthy outlets I have found.
But sometimes I just need to fall apart. And I’m okay with that. I’ve been through every mother’s worst nightmare. I’ve held my son as his heart stopped beating and given his cold body to a nurse and walked away.
I’ve given myself permission to grieve as long and as hard as I need to. And I really don’t care if people think I am grieving too long or too hard. So in some ways I appreciate that reporter’s question if it’s hard to talk about. Because that is how people should react. He didn’t brush away my grief, but rather acknowledged it, embraced it, and in an odd way gave me permission to carry any emotion I wanted to at that moment. So thank you Mr. Reporter for doing what so many can’t seem to do for us bereaved mothers. Thank you for letting me show my grief in any way that I wanted to in that moment.