The Anatomy of Grief: Darkness

My little boy is three weeks old today. What a mess I am in. Some days I move through all the stages of grief at record speed. Other days I am in denial or drowning in darkness. I can honestly say in the last three weeks things are only getting worse, not better. All I hear is “in time” I will move forward, “in time” I can try again, “in time” I will find life again.

Today I woke up on a denial day. I felt some motivation, I looked into the nursery and saw it as a live project, I put some washing on, made a phone call, typed an email, had something to eat. All small things but major things at the moment. I went out for a walk and while I was out there were three mums with babies heading towards me. Two with pushchairs, one in a sling. Realising the pavement was not big enough for the four of us and with them showing no sign of moving over, I stepped off the path to let them through. As they walked past me with their lovely babies, I stood in the gutter and looked down at my empty bump and thought about my baby in the hospital bereavement suite. How does anyone look at life again after this? How does anyone find a millimeter of something resembling normality?

I came home, sat on the kitchen floor and howled,”I want my baby back, I want my life back”.No one can hear and nothing will change. How will I go back to work? What if I can’t go back to work? Then what? How will we afford more IVF? What if we can’t? How will I ever feel emotionally ready to try for another baby? I don’t want another baby, I want my baby. How will I do something routine again?

In time? What if I don’t have time?


6 thoughts on “The Anatomy of Grief: Darkness

  1. I am so sorry to hear of your loss. I wish I could help you with your pain; I wish I could say it will stop. All I know so far from my own journey is that we will always feel for our angels. Robyn is with you in mind and heart. Wishing you strength and peace. 💙


  2. Thank you for sharing this – you have so accurately described the emotions and pain of losing a child and my heart breaks for you. The loss of a little one is a pain that no one should ever have to feel 😦


  3. I know it feels like no one wll hear and nothing will change, but, thanks to your blog, smeone will hear. We her, even if we are unable to exact any of the changes that could ease your hurt. We hear. We’re here.

    Liked by 1 person

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