There is always HOPE

Woke up again to that feeling. That huge weight of dread in my heart and the pit of my stomach. It's been awhile since I have felt it this strongly. Just a reminder that it can hit you hard at any moment.

The second year of Lilly's death has so far been the hardest. It took me a year and a half to stop feeling so heavy. Needless to say, it was a very rough year for me.

Whenever this feeling pops up and hits me so hard I feel as though the wind has been knocked out of me.

During that year I was not my best self, though I did still participate just with weights on my ankles. And then the guilt weighs in for the things that suffer.

Coming out of the pit I feel I can say for me I am better for it. I learned from that time in my life and feel more prepared for lack of a better word. And not prepared in the sense that it won't be as strong when it hits me. Just so much that I can KNOW there is light at the end of such a dark tunnel. That thought alone will help me get through it.

I lost my daughter it's ok that things will be harder for me and that my emotions will be so raw and tender.

So today as I feel that anguish in my heart it reminds me she was here. She existed. And I know that whether this feeling lasts for mere seconds longer or years, eventually I will feel less of the weight of it for another cycle someday. There is always hope!

Another lesson I feel my daughter has taught me.

But then...

I am sitting here thinking of how to word what I want to say in this post.

I have stepped away from the "grieving world" for some time now. It was in no way out of disrespect. I could say life got busy, but life is always busy. I just allowed myself to get caught up in the busyness of life, not prioritizing time for my grief to surface. 

I think of Lilly and all the babies'/children(s)'s families I have met often, and what a very heavy journey this is we have been asked to travel upon.

I started to feel a heavier sadness seeing all the infant loss and child loss happening and just didn't know how to keep up with it all. It's not possible, there are so many who have been "chosen" to walk this path.

I admit I myself became overwhelmed by it all. It's unfair, so unfair. It breaks my heart that Lilly died. There will always be a piece of my heart missing and whenever I learn of a new family's journey whether someone I know personally or meet through the internet, the tender area near my missing piece is poked, and it stings. My heart aches for and with them knowing the journey they are now and forever on until their time ends on this earth.

I realize now that though it is hard to be a part of this journey sometimes, no matter what I am always and forever on it. It is my path to walk and it may be harder at times than others. Bearable one minute and not at all the next. I feel more at peace, as much as one can feel, involved as much as I can be, when I can. This is not a part time journey.  It is a journey with hills, mountains, pits, and valleys, never knowing one moment to the next what level altitude I will be at.

Merry Christmas Eve

Today my heart is in all places at once. I am excited about Christmas on the verge of joyful bittersweet tears. Yet my heart also aches.

It's been awhile since I have felt this joy despite the heart wrenching emotions that "naturally" come with missing Lilly.

Of course there is no doubt I wish she were here to celebrate the birth of Christ with us. To open presents. To join in our family traditions.

I am also mourning the loss of another sweet life gone too soon this holiday season as well as the 26 lives who so recently and painfully left this world.

I think about the beginning of my journey after Lilly died and my heart aches thinking of the parents who have started their own journey after the loss of their child.  As well as the heartache the siblings feel beginning their journey without their brother or sister.

I feel for every one of them.

So while this is a joyous Christmas for me just a month and a half shy of the three year mark since Lilly died, it is also still a sad one. It will always be both.

I wish the families who have been asked to walk through life without their loved ones as much joy and peace during this holiday season.

Though it may sound odd for me to say I still can feel joy along with  this pain of having to survive a child, I don't feel that it means I miss her any less. In fact, I feel closer to how I felt when Lilly was here, than I have in awhile. I still miss her, I will always miss her. There will always be a lump in my throat, a hole in my heart so long as I live. 

I have always said I want her life to be bigger than her death and the joy I feel today coincides with my wish for that to be how she is remembered.

My Outlet

It's been awhile...again.

I have been wanting to write more often than I have been because in the past this has been such a great outlet for me, and lately I have been feeling the need to have an outlet.

To be honest, that feeling has never truly left, and it pains me to admit that I have allowed myself to make excuses for not having time. I feel it means I am not making time for Lilly, which I know is not true, but my heart feels guilty anyway.  I know at times the reason I stopped writing here was because in those moments, I felt I no longer needed to vent about my grief as often as I was in the beginning.

I have often wondered if perhaps that's why I feel the first year of living without Lilly was in a way more manageable than this year has been, because I had an outlet.

I have been missing the moments of peace I would get. I feel like those are fewer and farther between than before. I can not even remember the last time I felt a moment of peace wash over me. I do remember feeling them as I wrote how I felt. So I hope in writing this I am able to feel a moment of peace again. The same peace I felt wash over me the day of her funeral.

I have gotten to the place where I cry when I talk about her. Maybe its guilt. I want to talk about her but feel joy not sadness. Maybe its a balance; I felt the joy more immensely than the sorrow and now its time for me to feel the sorrow more than the joy.

I still don't want her death to be more important than her life. I think that I am conflicted because what I want is not coincidung with how I feel.

I know I can't control it. I also know the pain is a reminder that she was physically here. I just feel sad.

Before Lilly I did not like the feeling of not being in control, and after she died I could accept that I am not in control easily. Now I am back to not liking that feeling. It's a lot more stressful feeling this way though. I miss letting go and trusting and accepting what is meant to happen will happen.

In a way I still feel that way, just not nearly as dominant as before.

I need to remind myself that it is ok to feel conflicted. There is no manual for losing a child. There is no right or wrong way, and grief changes and grows as we do. Losing a child is still new to me. I have a lifetime of learning how to live with it. I won't ever get it right, I will not get used to it, and that's ok. I am not meant to.