The grief still creeps up on me, the loneliness, the feeling of yearning to hold Milo again. It doesn’t come around as much as it used to, but it’s still there.
The thing about grief is it never leaves you. You must let it come and go on its own terms, not yours; During supper, while washing the dishes, while watching your favorite TV show, standing in line at the grocery store, in the shower, at night when everyone is asleep and you’re wide awake asking yourself what in the hell happened to your life. It will hit you in waves, but only when you least expect it. Grief is a bitch like that, and it certainly doesn’t care that the rest of the world kept moving while you stayed stuck in time. The worst time of your life. It just sits there with you and keeps stabbing you while you try to breath through it all.
Suddenly you find yourself with so much time behind you, 583 days to be exact. I woke up 583 times since I lost my baby and kept walking through life. I have to paint this picture because it is so hard to understand at times. The hardest part is living in a world with other people who are living their own life, while you have to some how figure out how to live yours again. You’re just not the same person you once knew. You find some days you can breathe through the pain, but most of the time you just cry and continue to feel the same sadness, the one that’s become so familiar it now makes you sick. The truth is, life can change at any point in time, and all you can do is hope that you have the strength to get through whatever it is it throws at you.
"Don't forget to breath" I was advised. Ultimately, learning to live with the fact that I simply can’t change the things that have happened is the true lesson. I always try to look for the lesson in every hardship. I keep learning, I keep breathing, I keep going, but mostly because I have no choice.
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