When the boys first died I read poems and read books all the time trying to make sense of my grief.. Today I was on the forum I belong to and for some reason went into the baby loss section, (which I don't do that often anymore) and there was a mother sharing poems she was to have at her son's funeral. She also asked if we had any poems to share so I went to the poems section of my tribute site to pull out some nice ones and all of a sudden BANG!! I was right back there. I felt the intense heartache and grief that comes with planning your babies funeral.. How much life just sux and how much you can't bear to think past the next minute because it is all too damn hard, and I just felt so sad for this Mama.. And sad for me, because I remember it so easily.. Anyway I was reading some poems and this one in particular struck a chord with me. I mentioned in my last post how I felt about grieving now that so much time had passed and how I don't feel as comfortable openly grieving in front of people now and I realised this poem sums it up perfectly, especially the last part which I have coloured
blue...I lost my child today
I lost my child today.
People came to weep and cry
As I just sat and stared, dry eyed.
They struggled to find words to say
To try and make the pain go away.
I walked the floor in disbelief.
I lost my child today.
I lost my child last month.
Most of the people went away.
Some still call and some still stay.
I wait to wake up from this dream
This can't be real--I want to scream.
Yet everything is locked inside,
God, help me, I want to die.
I lost my child last month.
I lost my child last year.
Now people, who had come, have gone.
I sit and struggle all day long,
to bear the pain so deep inside.
And now my friends just question, Why?
Why does this mother not move on?
Just sits and sings the same old song.
Good heavens, it has been so long.
I lost my child last year. '
Time has not moved on for me.
The numbness it has disappeared.
My eyes have now cried many tears.
I see the look upon your face,
" She must move on and leave this place."
Yet I am trapped right here in time.
The songs the same, as is the rhyme,
I lost my child......Today.
This sums up just how I feel.. Over the last 4 weeks I have been struggling immensely again with my babies deaths.. I think partly it has to do with TAFE.. I am finding it hard, so in the back of my mind there is a little voice saying 'You shouldn't even be here, you should be at home with your LIVING twins'... I also don't feel I can express my grief like I could in the beginning.. It has been so long, surely I can't feel the same pain as I did when it was so raw?? Actually yes I do.. And I hate it..I have been stressing about an exam we have on Wednesday.. So terrified I will fail, just like I am a reproductive failure. Can't fall pregnant, then when I do, can't stay pregnant.. I have moments where I think, I have failed at the most important thing in my life, why wouldn't I fail this.. But then I put a positive spin on it and think 'You know what, fuck it. If I fail this who gives a shit'. After all, it's not the worst thing that has happened.. If I survived my babies deaths, then I can survive if I fail an exam right?? Well I feel a little better now that is off my chest.. I just want the pain, the hurt, the guilt to stop.. I also thought I would post this.. I found it on a forum and I think it was on Sids and Kids website
This is now what normal is,
Normal is having tears waiting behind every smile when you realise someone important is missing from all the important events in your family's life.
Normal is feeling like you know how to act and are more comfortable with a funeral than a wedding or birthday party... yet feeling a stab of pain in your heart when you smell the flowers and see the casket.
Normal is feeling like you can't sit another minute without getting up and screaming, because you just don't like to sit through anything.
Normal is not sleeping very well because a thousand what if's & why didn't I's go through your head constantly.
Normal is reliving that day continuously through your eyes and mind, holding your head constantly.
Normal is having TV on the minute you walk into the house to have noise, because the silence is deafening.
Normal is staring at every baby who looks like he is my baby's age. And thinking of the age they would be now and not being able to imagine it. Then wondering why it is even important to imagine it because it will never happen.
Normal is every happy event in my life always being backed up with sadness lurking close behind, because of the hole in my heart.
Normal is telling the story of your child's death as if it were an everyday, commonplace activity, and then seeing the horror in someone's eyes at how awful it sounds.
And yet not realising it has become part of my 'normal'.
Normal is each year coming up with the difficult task of how to honor your child's memory and their birthday and survive these days. And trying to find the balloon or flag that fit's the occasion.
Happy Birthday? Not really.
Normal is my heart warming and yet sinking at the sight of something special my baby loved. Thinking how he would love it, but how he is not here to enjoy it.
Normal is having people afraid to mention my baby.
Normal is making sure others remember them.
Normal is after the funeral is over everyone else goes on with their lives, but we continue to grieve our loss forever.
Normal is weeks, months and years after the initial shock, the grieving gets worse sometimes, not better.
Normal is not listening to people compare anything in their life to this loss, unless they too have lost a child. NOTHING. Even if your child is in the remotest part of the earth away from you - it doesn't compare. Losing a parent is horrible, but having to bury your child is unnatural.
Normal is taking pills, and trying not to cry all day, because I know my mental health depends on it.
Normal is realising I do cry everyday.
Normal is disliking jokes about death or funerals, bodies being referred to as cadavers, when you know they were once someone's loved one.
Normal is being impatient with everything and everyone, but someone stricken with grief over the loss of your child.
Normal is sitting at the computer crying, sharing how you feel with chat buddies who have also lost a child.
Normal is feeling a common bond with friends on the computer in other countries, but yet never having met any of them face to face.
Normal is a new friendship with another grieving mother, talking and crying together over our children and our new lives.
Normal is being to tired to care if you paid the bills, cleaned the house, did laundry or if there is any food.
Normal is wondering this time whether you are going to say you have two children or one, because you will never see this person again and it is not worth explaining that my baby isn't here on earth.
And yet when you say I have 1 child to avoid that problem, you feel horrible as it you betrayed your baby.
Normal is avoiding playgrounds because of small, happy children that break your heart when you see them.
Normal is people asking why God took your child's life instead of yours and asking if there is a God.
Normal is knowing I will never get over this loss, in a day or a million years.
And last of all, Normal is all the things that have become "normal" for you to feel, so that everyone around you will think that you are "normal"
author unknown '
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