Grief is Strange

(Repeat from Facebook)

Grief is strange. From the moment I woke up until just a couple hours ago I was busy: folding laundry, packing to go home, comforting Allison who didn’t want to say goodbye to grandma, trying to keep Brielle from screeching while Eric drove, making dinner, etc. I was tired from Brielle waking me up the night before, but I was “fine”. I am “fine” most of the time now.

Facebook reminded me that Eric and I got engaged 7 years ago today. I was still “fine” while Eric and I talked about how we expected married life to be. We were right that when you love someone and they love you, you can survive even the hardest trials. But we were also wrong, love doesn’t magically make everything feel okay. “Happily Ever After” should be replaced with “They moved forward together, but this is far from the end. Their story is just beginning.”

Once both girls were asleep, I picked up my phone and saw the date, and then I was anything but “fine”. Today is January 30th. January 30th was Cayden’s due date. If his birth had followed the pattern set by his sisters, Cayden would be 8 days old. I would be sore and sleep-deprived, but running on pure love and adrenaline. Eric and I would be staring at Cayden’s face right now, amazed at how much changes that 1st week and trying to decide who each of his facial features resemble. We might even be jokingly bickering over who’s turn it is to change his diaper, but we both know I win because I hold the “I gave birth” trump card.

Instead, I am still laying in Allison’s bed, holding her, because prying myself away is harder now. When I leave her room, my arms will be empty and cold. As long as I stay in the girls’ bedroom, I know they aren’t slipping away without my knowledge.

Grief is strange. It hits at unexpected times, like when I take the girls out somewhere to play. When I count heads to make sure no one has wandered off, I always have a few seconds where I am sure I am missing a 3rd child... and I am, but he didn’t wander

off and I didn’t forget him.

I know this post is a downer, but my life isn’t full of just funny things Allison has said or pictures of the girls’ brief moments of playing nicely. Yes, I am doing much better than I thought I would be doing by now. Overall, I am “fine”. I have moments of intense grief and anger, but I also have moments of intense joy and deep laughter. I will be okay, but it is also okay to not be okay sometimes too.