I’m not the person I used to be.
I’m sorry I’m not reliable.
I’m sorry anxiety controls my life.
You can depend on me to be there for you emotionally – but not physically.
Large parties intimidate me. Especially being pregnant again and being asked nonstop by numerous people: “Is this your first?”
It’s not that I don’t want to share my daughter’s story with the world.
Trust me, nothing brings me more joy than saying and hearing her name out loud.
It’s that I have no idea how each individual is going to react.
So many times when I feel brave enough to share her story, people don’t react. They glaze over what I said and change the subject.
Or they compare the loss of their grandparent… or even their dog.
We all grieve and have lost loved ones. I understand that. I too have lost numerous family members in the most tragic ways you can think of. Heart attack, overdose, murder.
I would never compare one loss to another. When someone else does that – it just leaves me feeling silenced and misunderstood.
My baby deserves a chance for her story to be told and acknowledged too.
I’m sorry I can’t go to your baby shower.
I’m sorry I can’t go to your bridal shower.
My daughter died days after my shower. They’re no longer a happy occasion for me. It just brings me back to that time and what we could have done differently.
I’m sorry I couldn’t show up for your child’s birthday party. Going to those with no living children of my own is continuously a slap in the face as to every milestone I am missing and will miss in the future with no choice or way to change that.
I am sorry I couldn’t join your event that happens to be all mothers with their living children. Being in a room full of moms and children and not being able to contribute to any conversation is one of my worst nightmares come true (numerous times).
I can’t sit here and listen to other moms complain about not sleeping. I’d give anything to be not sleeping for the reason of my child being alive and crying.
Instead, I am not sleeping because I am terrified of the child growing inside of me dying, while simultaneously grieving for and missing my child who died.
I know motherhood is challenging and exhausting. Everyone needs to vent and deserves to.
I just have a harder time sympathizing at this point in my life without it triggering me.
After losing my daughter, holding conversations has become a harder task. I zone out and think of her a lot. Trying to focus on a conversation takes a lot of energy and some days I just don’t have that energy.
I try to avoid triggers and I need to protect my heart.
I hate being away from my house. Just like you miss your children and don’t want to leave them home, I too miss Hailey and everything of hers at my home.
Her urn, all of her special keepsakes, all the pictures all around our house of Hailey and things that remind us of Hailey – seem unbearable to leave.
When I invite you over it’s so I can stay close to Hailey and her things. Also, so I can share all of these things with you. That is the only way I get to share my daughter with you.
I’m sorry I’m terrified to be away from my husband and family. They are where I feel the closest to Hailey. They are also my support and my safe space.
I’m sorry if you can’t understand – but I’m also grateful for your sake that you don’t understand.