I never thought it would hurt my heart to hear a baby cry or a child laugh. I never thought it would hurt to see monthly baby milestones, pregnancy announcements, baby shower or maternity photos. I never thought I would feel the need to hide photos and posts about babies and children. I never thought I would hide posts of other people doing things with their kids that I wanted to do with my son. I never thought I would delete my social media apps because of the overwhelming number of posts about baby milestones, pregnancy and Father’s Day. I never thought I would feel a sting in my heart after seeing a birth announcement. I never thought I would randomly touch my stomach to feel my baby all to realize he is neither there nor here with me. I never thought I would shudder when hearing various stories about little kids. I never thought I would ask for ear plugs at the hospital so that I didn’t have to hear a woman in labor or a newborn baby crying.
But it did and I have.
I did not realize before just how many baby ads were showing up on my social media accounts until I found out my baby would not be coming home with me. On the other hand, sometimes, some of these things have brought me comfort, like holding my four month old niece recently. I have found some comfort in those friends who do not have kids because I don't want to talk about kids right now. I do not know what things are more likely than others to be a trigger of more emotional distress, and I don’t know everything that will bring me comfort. The triggers are all inconsistent, and so is grief.
A couple of days ago, I came across this quote. "Grief, I've learned, is really just love. It's all the love you want to give but cannot. Grief is just love with no place to go." I think this is the most accurate thing I have heard lately. The grief is so much because our love for Jensen was so much.
Some days are a little better than others, and some times of the day are a little better than others. Grief comes in waves, just as unpredictable as the waves of the sea. Some waves are big and powerful, others small and silent.
I have found comfort in walking, being outside and taking in the rainstorm or calm of the morning. I have found comfort in silence and being around others. I have found comfort being held in my husband’s embrace. I have had peace knowing my son is safe, healthy, perfect and whole. And he will always be alive in the presence of God.