I can't believe how well my friend blogged about how she and I are both feeling right now... she didn't even realize I felt exactly the same way.
We are both at a stage in our journey where we have been past our losses for long enough that we're forgotten. No one seems to care anymore that our little ones are gone. She is at 6 and 3 years past her loss, I am 4 and and 3 years past my losses. That's not including the 9 months since my loss in August.
Kylie and James are essentially forgotten in all facets of life except my own mind and where their ultrasound sits in my living room. Their angel days are marked with a special dessert or activity but other than that they are not mentioned nor really thought of. I will be the first to admit that with time the pain gets easier and the thoughts get lessened by all involved- this occurs in every circumstance of grieving. I think about James and Kylie regularly, especially when small children the same age are running around. Its normal. But I remember them.
Daniel is remembered because he had the most impact on our lives and those around us, but he is quickly heading the same way of his older siblings. The mention of his name or my emotions leaves people looking for an escape from the conversation and the room. Most just check out. I try not to mention his name or anything to do with my losses, but sometimes I need a friend to talk to... or even just my SO. His ultrasound sits in my living room next to his siblings. I remember him.
Lilla Bjorn is not talked about nor really acknowledged in any way. I have had people give me their warm wishes for having to deal with another loss, but there is little emotional attachment. She and James share in this... both were gone before they were known to exist and therefor their emotional effects were not as harsh as Kylie or Daniel. I remember her.
I crave to hear their names from the lips of the people I care about the most. It means they aren't forgotten. Their affect on me and this world is not forgotten.
It disgusts me that there are four little lives missing from my life. Mind you, at 22 I'm not up for having four kids, but the fact that those lives were lost in a blink of an eye before they evened entered this world to see for themselves is horrendous. Not only did they not get a chance to live and dream as people in this world, but now they are lost to time.
Part of me never even wants to try again for a baby, I don't want to add another name to this list. One is too many, four in atrocious.
I can't handle dreaming about a life that will never come to bloom again. Not even being able to hold and kiss and cuddle my baby once before being swept away is heart breaking. I can't handle it.
I can't handle saying good bye again.
Right now it feels like I'm saying goodbye, because as time marches on my little ones are forgotten.
My little ones mattered to me.
They brought me some of the worst pain I have ever felt, and some of my greatest joys. They have brought amazing people into my life, and helped me recognize those who hold me back.
They matter to me and I don't want them to be forgotten.
We are both at a stage in our journey where we have been past our losses for long enough that we're forgotten. No one seems to care anymore that our little ones are gone. She is at 6 and 3 years past her loss, I am 4 and and 3 years past my losses. That's not including the 9 months since my loss in August.
Kylie and James are essentially forgotten in all facets of life except my own mind and where their ultrasound sits in my living room. Their angel days are marked with a special dessert or activity but other than that they are not mentioned nor really thought of. I will be the first to admit that with time the pain gets easier and the thoughts get lessened by all involved- this occurs in every circumstance of grieving. I think about James and Kylie regularly, especially when small children the same age are running around. Its normal. But I remember them.
Daniel is remembered because he had the most impact on our lives and those around us, but he is quickly heading the same way of his older siblings. The mention of his name or my emotions leaves people looking for an escape from the conversation and the room. Most just check out. I try not to mention his name or anything to do with my losses, but sometimes I need a friend to talk to... or even just my SO. His ultrasound sits in my living room next to his siblings. I remember him.
Lilla Bjorn is not talked about nor really acknowledged in any way. I have had people give me their warm wishes for having to deal with another loss, but there is little emotional attachment. She and James share in this... both were gone before they were known to exist and therefor their emotional effects were not as harsh as Kylie or Daniel. I remember her.
I crave to hear their names from the lips of the people I care about the most. It means they aren't forgotten. Their affect on me and this world is not forgotten.
It disgusts me that there are four little lives missing from my life. Mind you, at 22 I'm not up for having four kids, but the fact that those lives were lost in a blink of an eye before they evened entered this world to see for themselves is horrendous. Not only did they not get a chance to live and dream as people in this world, but now they are lost to time.
Part of me never even wants to try again for a baby, I don't want to add another name to this list. One is too many, four in atrocious.
I can't handle dreaming about a life that will never come to bloom again. Not even being able to hold and kiss and cuddle my baby once before being swept away is heart breaking. I can't handle it.
I can't handle saying good bye again.
Right now it feels like I'm saying goodbye, because as time marches on my little ones are forgotten.
My little ones mattered to me.
They brought me some of the worst pain I have ever felt, and some of my greatest joys. They have brought amazing people into my life, and helped me recognize those who hold me back.
They matter to me and I don't want them to be forgotten.
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