The last week was a big one for me… Logan’s three month birthday and the eclipse seemed to have drained me of my vitality and energy and I spent much more time in bed or on the couch than usual. I have been assured that periods like this are normal and part of the grief process… oh goody.
The other effect of last week was deep thought and reflection (you know… something new :/)… While we didn’t travel to the area of totality, the show was quite impressive from here in Denver. I felt an incredible depth of emotion while we watched the moon obscure the sun and put a filter on the earth.
I was awestruck when the reality that the moon, so small by comparison to the sun, was able to obscure most (and in some places basically all) of the sun’s light. I then began drawing parallels…
Grief, like the moon, can obscure the light of joy and happiness in someone’s life. It can feel cold, dark, and strange, leaving us uncertain in the same world we have inhabited our entire lives. When it is at it’s peak, it may seem that the sun will never come out again and we are destined to be cold and in the dark forever. Then, when all seems lost, the sun begins to shine again as the moon continues on it’s path, still present, but less prominent.
I have been reading many articles and accounts written by other parents who have lost their children and they all say the same thing… it gets worse before it gets better. I honestly don’t know what our path will look like, but it is hard to imagine worse.
Initially, I was numb. I was devastated, cried all the time, missed my baby more than words can express, day after day set a new bar for the “hardest” or “worst” thing I had ever done, and my whole body felt numb… I know that this is your body’s response to intense pain to secrete hormones to numb you from it, what I had not realized was that this happens even with emotional pain… But this natural protection slows and eventually stops over time allowing the sufferer to feel the full extent of their injury.
What change have I noticed in the time since Logan died? I am no longer numb, and holy s#!t it hurts.
Now, I have to stop and reality check several times a day… Yes, your baby is really dead. No, he is not coming back. No, this isn’t a nightmare, you are awake. No, you are not dead, even though you received a blow to the heart that should have killed you…
Now, I am learning about who I have become while grasping to the last shreds of my former self (more on this in another post) and missing my baby with every atom of my being. How do I show up in the world? It feels very awkward when the way I would normally behave or show up no longer feels authentic… I am mourning the loss of myself as well as my son.
However, as the moon passes on, I can choose to look at myself as a phoenix. I have been destroyed and currently resemble a pile of ashes, but I get to build myself anew and rise up stronger in mind, body, spirit, and conviction. Looking for the silver lining in the thunder clouds, I have had my life destroyed and now I can better align with my priorities and values. Being the mother of an angel has forever changed me and how I will live my life. From here on, I will be sharing my whole journey; the pain and grief, the changes we are making to our life, health, and lifestyle, and how we are honoring our angel the best way we can.
Good things:
- Our garden is feeding us most nights now which is awesome!
- I have the most incredible partner ❤ He is right here with me always and has been my rock
- We are making baby steps on our health journey (more on this to come)