In just a few short days it will be five months since I entered into a new life. A life far from my old one, a life filled with so much emotion and confusion. A life that leaves you asking the question "why"...a question that remains unanswered.
April 26, 2011 will mark the five month anniversary of our daughter Gabby's death. It was and will, remain my most life altering experience. This post is clearly about my feelings as a bereaved parent. These are my feelings. My feelings may be quite different then other parents suffering such a loss. One person's grief may not be the same as others.
In the first few weeks after Gabby's passing, life was quite a blur. It took every ounce of energy I had to get out of bed. I remember waking up every morning thinking, I need to feed Gabby, get her dressed, and wondered what appointments we had for that day. It hit me like a ton of bricks when I remembered that I no longer needed to do these things. Once, I was able to get the strength to get out of bed, I would have to find the strength to get showered and dressed. These easy day to day routines I once took advantage of, became a chore and became very difficult. During this time, I was surrounded by family. Family would do everything they could to keep me active by taking me places and just being there. At times, I wanted to be surrounded by family, then the next minute I just wanted everyone to leave me alone.
A month after Gabby passed, was my first holiday....Christmas. As the holiday drew closer, I wanted so much to just crawl in a hole and not come out until it was over. The thought of a holiday where family was all together celebrating a joyous time was out of the question. How could I be a part of a holiday function where family would be together? There was no way, I would be able to tolerate seeing so many of the young kids opening gifts and getting so excited when my daughter was not in attendance and never would be again. I refused to celebrate Christmas as it was just too painful. Instead, I spent my Christmas at the cemetery talking with Gabby.
One week after Christmas came yet another holiday....New Year's. Once again, I became withdrawn and depressed. A New Year was going to soon begin and it would be a New Year without my daughter to have by my side. Once again, as people went out to celebrate the New Year and the joy and new changes that it may bring, I refused. Instead I found comfort in just sleeping and once again ignoring the fact that another holiday had come and passed.
Faith, a topic I once found comfort in became something I questioned. Why, God??? Why did you take my daughter from me? Why did you let her die?? I began to question God's motives and wondered why we lived in a world filled with so much pain and sorrow. I began to ask the question: "If you love us so much God, then why is there so much pain in the world"? I became so angry at people who stated that it was "God's will". How dare they say it was "God's Will" to take my daughter. I use to think to myself, "if it was God's Will, then I don't want any part of a God that would take a child away from their parent". I became so overwhelmed with guilt over this topic that I found myself visiting a Priest. I will never forget the Priest's words as he told me "It is was not God's Will to take your child. He did not cause your child's condition, biology caused her condition. He doesn't purposefully, nor willingly take a child from their parents. He doesn't cause the tragedies in this world, yet he is there in the end". At five months, I am still struggling with questions, but I have begin to find my strength once again in God.
Lonlieness: As my journey began, I was surrounded by so many people. I didn't quite feel the affects of lonlieness. As my grief progress so does the lonliness. It is amazing how you can be surrounded by so many people, yet feel so alone in the world. I am not sure why this feeling did not have an impact on me early on. Perhaps, it is because in the beginning we are overwhelmed with the comfort of cards, visitors, and phone calls. Then as time goes on, people move on and you no longer recieve the cards, visitors, or phone calls. You begin to wonder, did everyone forget? No one now mentions my child although the pain of losing her is still so hard. I can't even begin to tell you how much it means to me when someone will just send me an email or a text message that simply says "thinking of you today". Those four simple words are sometimes the words that make a horrible day into a good day. It lets me know that I am still being thought of and so is my child. Those little words help ease the lonliness I often feel.
One of the hardest feelings I go through is just sadness. Sadness, from missing her so much. It is amazing how much I find myself thinking of Gabby. I honestly think of her every minute of everyday. I think about her in heaven and what she is doing. I think about her life on earth and the good and bad times we had. Til this day it is almost impossible to look at baby clothes or other items because of the pain it brings me of missing her. Songs will come on the radio that will just make you burst into tears because it reminds me of her. One of the songs I hear frequently is "The Climb" by Miley Cyrus. I always said that was Gabby's theme song because she had so many obstacles to overcome. Gabby and I use to listen to it often and it was even the first song that was played when you opened her blog. It is amazing how you can be so full of smiles and having a decent day, then in a split second you are hysterically crying and screaming "Why"? The sadness is by far the most difficult part of my grieving. It hits often and in a split second.
Many people tell you that you will get over it, but I know I will never get over it. I will get through it, but never over it. I will always be forever changed and I will always go through my time of grieving. Nearly five months into my grief and I am beginning to find that the pain does ease. I am aware that the pain of losing my child will always be present, and that the pain will forever be a part of me.
