One thing I have learned about grief is its unpredictability. Just when you think you are making progress, grief rears its ugly head and knocks you down like a bully on the playground. It is a constant struggle to find a balance, a new way of living when everything seems so much harder to tolerate. Everyday life is a battlefield and grief is your enemy. You try to stand your ground but grief's army is much stronger than yours. I'm not gonna lie, I have been struggling...I have been struggling to find a new path through this war zone and I now admit I need reinforcements.
I thought I was doing okay, making my way slowly through the muck and getting one foot ahead of the other. I was a fool to believe it would be that easy. I realize that I put my grief on hold to focus on getting Sawyer to us safe and sound. In the first few months of his life, I was in a haze of relief and gratefulness. My grief was able to plan a sneak attack and I started back where I left off before I got pregnant. I started to get frustrated easily and overwhelmed with minute things. My organized ways have been nothing short of chaotic and I can't seem to get a grasp on it. At first, I blamed it on life with four kids and I believed I would figure it out eventually. I go to therapy to help navigate the grief and have had many discussions with my doctor about starting meds but I didn't want to seem weak. I am a warrior, right? I have seen the darkness of death and made it this far. Shouldn't I be okay by now? How long can I hold on to this pain? The stigmas of society weigh heavily on my mind because society often minimizes grief and labels it as weakness rather than human nature.
Not many people know but I battled postpartum depression after I had Brynly. I was terrified the day I went to the doctor to tell her I needed help. It was the best decision I ever made but yet I still feared the judgment I may face seeking help again. I tried telling myself that I could figure it all out with the right therapy and getting our family rhythm back. Problem is, I am a different person now. I see life differently and cannot go back to who I was before. She no longer exists. The new me has many fears and views life as before and after Holden. But, I put on a brave face and tell people "I'm okay" even when I am screaming inside. I share my true emotions with a select few who get me, who truly hear my words and allow me to vent. Grief is such a hard concept for people to understand because it is so different for everyone. People try to use their own experiences or others' experiences to give advice to those who are hurting. Even though well intended, it can cause more damage than good.
Last week, Sawyer became ill and it was traumatizing for me. I know most parents can relate to the normal fears when your child is sick but I truly know the pain of when things go horribly wrong. I watched as he coughed and gagged and, at one point, his lips turned blue. I froze in fear and thought I was losing another baby. I felt my heart pounding and my eyes burning from trying to hide my tears from everyone. The nurse in me is usually calm in these situations, assessing and determining what needs to be done. I failed in that moment because the loss mom in me took over and I panicked. I knew in that moment that I was not okay. I needed help. I can no longer ignore my heart's pleas. I needed to take care of myself to care for my family. I was not okay.....
I saw my doctor and told her I needed something. She got it, she got me. I needed to know that I was not weak. I needed to know that what I am experiencing is normal and we will find a way through. I know I am not alone but, even with all the support, baby loss can feel so isolating. It is a lifelong grief that will change many times and I realize that asking for help is not a sign of weakness. I feel stronger having shared my struggles and seeking help. I share this because I know of so many who suffer alone or minimize their pain to make it more acceptable. Grief is human nature, a byproduct of having a soul and experiencing loss. It's okay to admit when you are not okay. That is the strongest thing a person can do for themselves and those they love. Grief's army is no match for the human heart. Never deny your heart the help it needs ♡
This post couldn't have came at a better time! I needed to know I'm not alone today. Thank you Devon for being so open about your grief.
ReplyDeleteOh Devon, how my heart breaks for you. ��
ReplyDeleteI'm not sure what to put here. I don't want to seem ignorant, or callous, or unfeeling...
I've been one to ask you if you are ok, and to have you tell me "I'm fine." I know you're not. What can I do? What can I say? I want you to tell me your hurting, that Bill is struggling, that you are having a hard time that day. I will have no words of wisdom, I will probably not say a word. But I will hug you. I will tell you I Love You like a sister. I will shed tears for you like Iam right now, even when you don't know I'm shedding them. I don't want you to tell me "I'm Fine", unless you really are.
I'm so glad you asked for help! I felt weak and embarrassed to get medication for depression, but I am a much better person, wife and parent for knowing when I needed it.
You Devon, ARE strong!!
My heart is full of love for you, Bill, Holden, and those four little monkeys I call my nieces and nephews. ❤️
Aww mama <3 I didn't realize what a hard time you were having recently. You and I walk the same path I think -- I finally broke down and had to ask for help as well. Thankfully, my providers "got me" too, so they were able to help me work through my grief. You know you can come to me at any time.
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