I’m moving past the feeling. Again.

I woke up on his 8 month birthday like I wake up most days. Just a little more numb.

Sometimes I can’t believe it. He happened, he was here, I definitely felt him in my belly, I have the pictures of the pregnancy, I have the pictures of him in our arms.

But he’s not here anymore, and he’s supposed to be 8 months old, and this house is supposed to be filled with onesies and diapers, burp clothes and two exhausted mamas.  And instead it’s visibly filled with heartache. And I’m moving through these feelings the best I can. I move out of my body and watch my reactions and my tears.  I wish I could reach out and give myself a hug sometimes. I am as gentle on myself as I can afford to be.

Sometimes I can’t believe it.

There are moments when I  question my own sanity. But I’ve come to know these feelings are the new normal. I’m not crazy in that I am not living in reality. I’m crazy in that my reality is maddening. In that it makes me want to throw up my hands in the air and quit sometimes. I’m crazy in the way I feel when I sit and can’t do anything but cry. I’m crazy in that I get up every morning and I hope that he’s going to appear, and when I realize that this wasn’t just a horrible nightmare, then I get up and do the same routine everyday.

I’ve become one of my own grief counselors. I talk myself through it, letting the tears cleanse me, and get me through the moment. Each morning visiting with him at his altar. Asking him for guidance.

Sometimes I can’t believe it.

I am a childless mother. This is my story, our reality. 8 months. We are still here. Still standing. How can I make the world understand how  much I wanted to be the mother of this beautiful little boy? How do I get them to understand my grief? I know life happens. I know life goes on. Please don’t judge me for where I need to be right now. I know if you’re just reading my blog, then it’s likely you aren’t witness to the happiness I can still feel.

I should really write more about the joy I’m still able to experience. I guess I’m too busy enjoying it to write about it. But this writing. It helps me move through it. I swear there is joy.

To celebrate his 8 months, I practiced yoga in the park, in full sun. I felt warm, I moved my body, I watched as butterflies and dragon flies and birds soared around me through the asanas. In my last downward dog, the sun shone through me.  8 months and I can see hope on the horizon. I’m moving through it, moving with it. I do it for Luca, I do it for Gina, for myself, and for Luca’s future siblings. 

At 8 months, I thank you for still reading, for being present, for all the positive energy and intention you send our direction, and for how you remember my dear sweet son.


One thought on “I’m moving past the feeling. Again.

  1. It is unbelievable, unfathomable, isn’t it? How can this BE? Did this really happen? Where is my son?

    Write about what YOU need to write about. I find I don’t usually have much of a need to write about good things, joy, I don’t need to process that like I do the intense sadness, grief and longing.

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