I’ve been feeling so alone in my grief. No one seems to care as much anymore. Most people don’t ask me how I’m doing anymore. Not that I ever knew how to respond, but at least my pain was acknowledged. Now it’s like no one cares. Even the people close to me. It’s been a month since we found out about the loss. It’s been almost two weeks since the d&c. Maybe people think it’s starting to hurt less. I think that hurts more. Everything hurts more. I don’t know what it looks like to live my life anymore, but my friends all seem to move on.
I wish people would ask me how I’m doing. I wish people would check in. I reach out a lot, but almost no one reaches out to me. That’s how it feels at least. Even people that seemed to reach out more in my life previously. It’s hard to know how to keep going anymore.
I try to find comfort in quotes I find. Those seem to describe and acknowledge my pain in some way.
“Grief is isolating, but it never leaves you alone. In the moments we wake up crying, the car rides with tears streaming, grief is our companion. When everyone else moves on, forgetting our loss, grief remembers.”
It’s so difficult to be in this place. It’s so difficult to leave the room to cry because being in this place is always painful in every direction.
Bryan and I got a massage yesterday. The massage was relaxing, but waiting in the ladies lounge was not. There were two ladies there chatting who worked in obstetrics in a hospital. They talked about birth, delivery, pregnant ladies, and babies. They talked about babies born early and fighting for the lives. They talked about awful deformities that doctors missed. They talked about a mom on meth who left her baby in the hospital because she didn’t want them.
I wanted my baby…
As I was sipping my water after the massage, another group of ladies were also painful. I’m not sure there will ever be another way but to be in pain all the time. These ladies were talking about how amazing it is to have their children home everyday after beginning to homeschool. I left early. I cried when I got home. I don’t even really know why. I cried a lot that day. I cry a lot everyday…
I was watching Grey’s Anatomy yesterday, and this quote can through.
Do you know how hard it is to stand by and watch someone else live the life that you want? The life that you’re willing to give up everything for? -Teddy Altman, Grey’s Anatomy
This describes a lot of what I feel right now on top of all my grief. I don’t know what to do with this hard feeling as everyone else in my life moves on and continues. The people in my life that get to continue their pregnancies just hurt. I can’t be happy. Even being in the same room with them is too painful. So I leave the room and cry. I feel like no one acknowledges my pain anymore. That’s what hurts.
I don’t ever know what it means to keep moving. Everyday the place I’m in is harder than before. It doesn’t get easier.
“Time doesn’t heal all wounds. It just puts more space between the times you remember the events that gave you these wounds. There are some hurts that never some hurting, no matter how faded the scars.”
I’ve learned this to be true very quickly. This is one of those things that won’t ever go away. Time won’t fix this one.
“Parents don’t just grieve the loss of their precious baby, they mourn never having the chance to hear them speak, teach them to walk, and see them grow. Every new day reveals something that they will miss out on. This is why parents grieve as long as they live.”
“There is no word to describe a parent that loses a child. That’s how awful the loss is.”
“The hardest part about losing a child is living everyday afterwards.”
“Long nights up with a baby are better than long nights up alone crying for your lost baby.”
Sometimes there are no other words. Today, my child, I only miss you when I’m breathing.