Frozen

Yesterday, as I stood outside on an early fall afternoon, I watched my dogs run around under the enormous maple trees in our front yard. The trees have been turning colors and I’m not nearly as excited about it as I usually am. Fall has always been my favorite season, but I feel as though my life has frozen since my son has been gone. I often have to remind myself that it is actually September, because I feel as though it should still be mid June.The last two months have been a complete blur. I feel as though I live in a haze, I go to work every day, and do chores at home. We pay our bills on time, and have dinner every night, but it feels like a dream, a fog, or more realistically, a nightmare.

Last night, as I watched my crazy girls run at full speed around my front yard, I gazed up at the trees I’ve always loved so much. They’re beginning to turn into the gorgeous fall tones I’ve always loved. The seasons changing is hard for me. I feel like I am leaving my sweet boy in the past. 

As I watched the leaves fall, I admired the cool breeze. I had opened all the windows in the house so we could enjoy the cool weather. For a brief second, I thought I heard a baby cry from Skylar’s room. I glanced at the green curtains blowing in the breeze and felt excitement, as I knew my baby needed me, and I was going to go pick him up and love on him. I used to be so excited to hold him. 

I then remembered this couldn’t be true. My boy was gone, and has been for months. Hearing him cry sometimes is usually something that wakes me up at night. I think it’s my hormones or something. Its as if my body knows there should be a baby in my life. 

I came back inside, and sat on the couch as I opened up my phone and scrolled through the pictures I have of my sweet boy. I stared at his perfect features, my emotions were yet again, so intense that I literally felt nauseated. As I looked at his pictures, and remembered how it felt to hold him, I felt very real, physical pain. Because my arms are so very empty, they literally hurt sometimes. My chest hurts as my heart breaks all over again. My throat burns as I choke back tears, and sometimes it’s even heard to breathe.

The world I’m in has been very dark lately, as I suppose I am entering the depression phase of the grief process. I don’t write as often as I did, because in the past I have tried very hard to share only positivity. I think quite a bit of my deep sadness branches from the seasons changing. Saturday will be my birthday. Last year for my birthday, I was so very sad that I was not yet a mommy.. yet here I am, back at square one, feeling the same way. 

Last October, I got pregnant. Last November, at thanksgiving, we announced to our family that we were finally having a baby. And last Christmas, we shared it with the world. These next few months will be very hard for me. In the changing seasons, I will be leaving my only baby behind.

I went to see one of my doctors recently because of deep depression and memory lapses. Both or which, are normal for what I’m going through. But, at my visit, she asked me if I had talked to anyone about how bad I’ve been feeling. My family doctor that has known me for as long as I can remember. I was honest with her when I said no. I have been shielding everyone in my life, including my best friends, my parents, and my husband, from how very bad I have been feeling. I have been pulling myself together for the sake of everyone else. I have been putting on a fake smile, and hiding all my pain. My doctor stressed that this will not help me. If I can handle being told my son was gone while still thinking I felt movement, if I can handle being in labor for 20 hours, if I can handle giving my son away to be cremated, everyone else should be able to handle my very raw emotion. I’ve since decided to share my darkest parts. My physical and emotional pain that comes with missing my baby boy with literally every fiber of my soul is something I will no longer hide.

Two and a half months ago I lost my son. People often tell me that one day, I will be a mommy, one day, I will have my happy ending. Though I do often wish I could fast forward to the next chapter in my life, I often also worry that it will never happen. Even if I do get to have another, who is to say something bad won’t happen in the third trimester again, or at birth, or while they’re an infant, or when they’re a teenager? I live in fear that I will never have a happy ending. I sometimes feel very lost, isolated, and alone. My world is filled with pain and fear, and it seems even antidepressants may not help me. 

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