Good Grief

Grief.  What can I say about Grief?  It is a giant elephant that follows you around anywhere you go.  I have been trying to deal with my grief for 20 months now and it has become a part of my life.  It is like when Charlie Brown says “Good Grief”.  I have a lot of good in my life.  I have two beautiful and amazing children who fill my heart with love each and every day.  Without them, I probably would have been put away in a psych ward somewhere after I lost my son Samuel.  I thank God for my kids every day.  So I say Good Grief because that is what my life has become.  A daily dose of good and grief.

It isn’t just the loss of my son that I deal with daily.  Having a stillborn child is a horrible experience in so many ways besides the simple fact that your child is no longer living.  It is the experience of being in the doctors office and seeing the ultrasound with your baby not moving or breathing.  It’s the panic.  It’s the doppler on your giant belly with no heartbeat coming out of it.  It’s the words coming from the doctor’s mouth telling you how sorry they are to tell you the news.   It is the extreme sadness and shock that follows.  One of the most traumatizing aspects of this whole situation is the actual child birth.  I never thought in my life that I would be able to have a vaginal birth, and if Samuel had lived until my due date then I would have been right.  I learned the day I found out he was gone that I would give birth to him vaginally, which was only possible due to his size and the time of my pregnancy, 27 weeks.

The actual experience of giving birth to my son will haunt me forever.  So it isn’t just about living with the fact that I lost my son, but the fact that I had to go through the entire birth process only to have my son come out of me lifeless and quiet.  That in itself is one of the saddest things a mother can go through.  I felt him leaving my body and knew he was leaving me forever.  I knew the whole time and through every bit of pain that it would not be the way I had always imagined it in my head.  The pain a mother endures, the contractions, the pushing, all usually ends up with a crying baby and pure joy.  All of which I had to experience but with an ending no one should have to have.

No one could understand the experience of having a stillborn child unless they have gone through it themselves.  Even trying to imagine it in order to sympathize with someone, still does not give them an idea of what this awful experience is like.  I have always been a sensitive person, but that seems to have gotten worse since I lost my son.  I have, above all other things in life, always wanted to be a mother.  I love being a mother more than anything else in this world.  Losing my son, I lost a part of myself that I will never get back.  My heart was broken that day.  Ever since, I have just been trying to piece it together enough to try to see a little more of the good in daily than the grief.