Thursday, April 2, 2015
Sometimes loss is so encompassing. It's overwhelming. All consuming. It strikes out of no where with out warning. This deep intense pain that aches so much it feels as though your heart is literally ripping into two. I find myself revert back to the same thing year after year, expecting it to be easier, and shocked when it's not.
I work around death. In the ICU it's too often an occurrence. My heart breaks for people, I truly feel pain as I comfort the family, I shed true, honest, heart felt tears with you. I see it all the time, but as soon as I come home I shut it off. I tune out the sadness because to continue to think of it is just too hard. It brings up suppressed memories, the memory of my own loss. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't see, true heart break took control of my body as I sit holding my child as he slowly slipped away from this earth. I had such a hard time falling asleep that day, how could I sleep, how could I close my eyes and say goodbye to the last day I held him. After much fight, exhaustion took over my body, I fell to a deep slumber. And then I woke up. And then as my body awakes, and I slowly re-enter reality....in a quick instant, just a split moment, you forget. And then, BOOM, like a flood of memories, it's back. I can almost close my eyes, relive that moment, every time. It's almost three years later, and I still wake up, and every time I think it gets easier...as soon as I feel my heart being sown back together...the ripping just starts all over again. You have to keep on being a parent even though you don't have that child anymore. I know Blake has a sibling but when I'm asked if Blake is an only child, my only response can be 'yes'. Because in reality, Blake is the only child in our household. Not everyone wants a question they expect to be one worded answer, to end up taking up 30 minutes of their time. They just need yes or no.
So I stick with the fact- yes Blake is an only child. But it feels unjust to say that. It feels so wrong to just eliminate or leave out that you were and still are his sibling. Not just his sibling- his other half- his twin. It feels....heartbreaking, painful, and betraying. I once held you, and I swore I wouldn't forget you. Yet, here I say yes as if you didn't exist.
As your birthday draws near, the weeks become more difficult. Each day becomes more suffocating- the loss creeps back in, the sadness pulls closer. The memories and reminder of loss loom. I'll get through it...like I do every year. But the ache is there and frankly......