The Waves of Grief

Grief is a weird emotion. It comes in waves crashing into you so hard it knocks you flat and then recedes tricking you into thinking it’s gone only to crash into you again. One minute I’m “fine” the next I’m- insert any emotion here: crying, screaming, angry, confused, depressed and “fine.”

As a long-time fertility patient, I have learned to bury emotions and soldier on. I’m good at it. I’m good at hiding behind the next treatment plan and throwing myself into what’s next. I typically only give myself a day or two to cry and then I move on. But not this time. This time, this loss, it sneaks up on me and comes flying out of me when I least expect it.

Exhibit A- I was having a great day with the boys. Lots of playing and snuggles, our typical lazy mornings together. I hopped in the shower to feel like human again, maybe leaving them with the TV to babysit for 10 minutes max. I came out of the shower to do a quick check before getting dressed only to find them in a pile of my jewelry.

In 10 minutes, they had opened the one drawer in that box that matters, they had out my wedding ring, my diamond earrings, my diamond necklace, a ring from a close friend that contains a precious stone along with a few other pieces that have sentimental value. The screaming that followed when I realized one of my diamond earrings was (and still is) gone may only be described as a deranged banshee. My poor babies, sat on the couch in horror watching their bawling, screaming mom crawl around in a towel frantically looking for the lost earring. I must have looked crazy; they didn’t move an inch and in fact both fell asleep when I walked out of the room, from stress I’m sure.

When I finally calmed down and realized my over-the-top reaction, grief was there to greet me. Vicious bitch reminded me how angry I still was and how bottled my emotions were.

Exhibit B on the grief train, moments that take you by surprise. Since I’ve been so sensitive, I wanted to take a moment with the boys and snuggle up to a great movie. Something “fun” I said. So I put on Coco. I love that movie; I’ve seen it many times and the music just makes me smile.

I forgot, however, about the song “Remember Me.” We get to the part where Hector tells the story about singing to his daughter Coco and I can feel that all too familiar tightening in my chest. It’s happening right now in fact. He starts to sing, “Remember me, even when we’re far apart, remember me when you hear a sad guitar. Know that I’m with you the only way that I can be, until you’re in my arms again remember me.” Cue full on heaving tears. I want to hold my baby. I want them to know I think about them every day. That I know someday I will hold them again but until then sweet baby remember me because I will never forget you.

If you ask me how I’m doing, I am going to say I’m “fine.” It’s what I do. I won’t burden you with my grief. For those who have walked in my shoes you know, you physically heal but emotionally there’s a piece of your heart that will always be missing to some degree. However, the more I allow myself to feel, the less it’s making an appearance. I’ve added in time daily to pray and meditate. Rob and I named the baby we lost and we talk to him. I’ve ordered a few things to honor baby. I am acknowledging this loss not burying it so that when the time is right to try again, I can say I allowed my feelings and I am ready for a new blessing.

Each day gets better, the grief is receding into small waves vs hurricanes. Still there, but quieter. Grief will not control me because I acknowledge its part in my life and I am allowing God to lead my healing.

With bated breath I cherish every moment with my boys, giving them all that I am until the day God calls me home and I can be reunited with my sweet baby in heaven.