grief

Grief

~ lovingbrielle ~ Leave a comment

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I don’t know how to grieve. I seem incapable of it. I want to grieve. I want to feel something, anything. Instead I am out of sorts, numb…rational. I’m really not sure what to do about it. Everyone talks about grief like it is this thing you just do, as if it just happens to you. And it has me wondering if I’m defective. People cry when they grieve, right? They feel things. They experience sadness, anger, denial. They move through it. They go through stages. But I don’t.

I try to come up with an answer for my lack of grief. Not that I am not sad or don’t miss Brielle, but I feel wrong. Like I’m living in someone else’s skin. I am really not sure how to put into words what I’m feeling. I behaved the same way with my Papa. I love him dearly, but I never grieved him. I wanted to and still do. He deserved to be mourned. I want to mourn him. To celebrate his life and feel loss that he is gone. Instead I feel like an outsider, peering in at someone else’s life.

Maybe I’m just protecting myself. Maybe I’m having a fight or flight response and I’m just shutting it all off. While I took care of Papa, I remember getting away from the house and sobbing, because the reality of the situation was sinking in. Not his death, but how he was dying. It tore me apart. I understood it too well and it broke my heart. But it was not the time for me to be sad. Whatever he needed, I needed to be ready for. So I stood in the middle of the county road, cold air burning my cheeks and I shoved my pain as deep inside as I could. I stood there until I could feel nothing, not even the cold air on my face. And then I went back inside.

I did the same thing with Brielle, but it was different. I stayed open to her, to loving her, I let myself feel. But I refused to let myself grieve. Whenever my pain would begin to bubble up, I’d shove it back as quickly as I could. Brielle hated it when I was upset and it was selfish of me to experience negative emotions when her life was so short. She didn’t need to know anything about sadness, she just needed to know happiness and love. Sometimes I would slip and I’d apologize to her, rubbing on my belly and letting her know that I was just worried about her. I’d tell her it would be okay and then I’d tell her that she was sick and that she may not get to stay with Daddy and I. I’d explain to her what would happen and as I spoke I, once again, shoved my hurt deeper inside.

And maybe this is why I can’t grieve. Maybe I just can’t let go. Maybe I’m just trying to be happy for her still. Happy for Papa still. Maybe I’m just too busy trying to make them comfortable. I should be able to move past this point, they aren’t here anymore. They’re together and they are happy. And that makes me happy. It brings me comfort and I hold onto the hope that we will be together again. But I need to be sad too. I need to grieve, but I don’t know how.

Happy 3 Months Brielle!

~ lovingbrielle ~ Leave a comment

 

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I wrote this and took this picture three weeks ago for Brielle’s third month. I’m holding Brielle Bear (where we keep her ashes).

Brielle would be twelve weeks today. It’s hard to believe that it has already been three months. In some ways it feels like it just happened and in other ways it feels like it’s been a lifetime since I held her and kissed her little toes. David and I miss her constantly. And our lives feel…odd. We feel as if we took ten steps back. In some ways we feel completely empty and broken. And in others we feel fulfilled and happy. She brought us so much joy and love and we are so thankful for that. She brought perfect goodness into our lives and we’ll treasure that time we had with her forever. I wish there was a way to hold her still. To feel her little wiggles and give her kisses. I just want to hold her again.

Pity Party for One

~ lovingbrielle ~ 2 Comments

I’m dealing with parental drama and I’m so done with it. It’s keeping me from grieving Brielle and I hate it. I want to talk about it, but it makes other people angry. I don’t want to hurt anyone either. I just feel like I’m trapped. I’m trying to wrap my head around what kind of people they really are and it makes me sick. Of course, they’ll tell you that they have no idea what I’m talking about.

I feel like I’m drowning. I’m having to put Brielle on the back burner as I struggle with who my parents are, suddenly becoming a caregiver, moving Bernice into our home, and dealing with David’s family drama. I love Bernice and I’m not complaining, but I never have a moment to myself. She doesn’t understand time and to her forty five minutes is a very long time. It’s made checking the FB page and keeping it updated very difficult.

I’ve been looking into other forms of dementia and I don’t think Bernice has Alzheimer’s, but another form of dementia. Her dementia is very different and I’m not sure how to help her. She doesn’t follow the typical ALZ patterns. She’s bored, and it’s been challenging for the both of us. I want her to enjoy the time she does have, but I have no idea what to do.

David’s job is a nightmare. I have quite a few choice words for his boss. In fact, there’s nothing even remotely good about him. He’s a sexist good ole boy and I’d like to give him a piece of my mind. That being said, David is miserable and beyond stressed. He told me the other night that this is the worst place he has ever worked. I hate it for him and I hate it for his coworkers who are being treated like worthless cattle. Really, there’s nothing good to say about the Atlanta office. Oh, David’s coworkers and lower management are nice, they’re also the ones who are there almost every weekend and until very late at night.

Things are just so hard right now. I just want to relax and be sad. I want to sit on the couch and just cry. I want to hold Brielle Bear and be sad that I can’t hold Brielle and touch her soft baby skin. Instead the whole world is falling around David and I. We’re tired. We just want a break.

*sigh* I’ll have a pity party for one please. I’d like a large shot of magical calorie free cookie dough, bra free months, stretchy pants, and lots of Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy, please.

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Someone Else’s Story

~ lovingbrielle ~ Leave a comment

Sacrifice

Sometimes I look at these things I share and I feel as if I’m reading someone else’s story. Surely this isn’t my journey. Surely that person is not me. This person doesn’t look or speak like me, because I couldn’t possibly be going through something like this. And I’m perplexed. Because how could this happen?

I read all the books, took all the vitamins, ate organic, switched my beauty products to natural or organic products. I did it all right. I followed the rules. I prayed over Brielle’s future before she was even conceived. We planned Brielle’s timing three years in advance. I played the game everyone wants me to play, so who is that person saying she is me?

I’ve waited for Brielle my whole life. My whole life I’ve waited for this time of my life. I’ve always known that my purpose and path in life was not to begin until now. And I’ve waited. I’ve endured and I’ve suffered. When things in my teenage years broke me, I pushed through and survived so that I could be a mom. When gastroparesis took away everything I had and nearly took me with it, I pushed through so that I could be a mom. I have spent my whole life fighting for the right to be Brielle’s mother, to be a mom. Every decision and step I’ve taken in my life has been for this child. Some people search their whole lives for who they are, but I always knew. I always felt as if I was in someone else’s skin, biding my time until I could be myself, until I could be free to begin.

When I read these stories, see these pictures, I wonder who that person is. I have been through enough, so who is this person saying she is me? From the outside my life may have looked happy, but for the past fifteen years I have suffered, struggled, and fought for every bit of happiness I’ve had. I have not had reprieve in so long, this was to be my reprieve. My light in all of my darkness. So who is this woman who says this is my path? This was not to be. I was going to be happy. I was going to see my beautiful little girl, this was not to be my path. I don’t need an answer to why bad things happen to good people. I already know the answer. What I want to know, is will I only know the bad? Will everything that could go wrong in a life find me?

All I want is to see my little girl grow up, I want to see her smile, and live a long, healthy, happy life. She’s not supposed to know this sadness, she deserves a life of sunshine and laughter. If I had the power, I’d move heaven and earth and give it to her. I’d be whatever I needed to be to give her a beautiful and perfect future. I’d bend the will of man to ensure her happiness, all for her smile, all I want is a lifetime with her smile. I want to see wrinkles and smile lines. And I want to hear the laughter of her children. I want to live a lifetime with that future, a future with her.