Monday, 14 February 2011

Six Months

Six months since you were born silently into this world. Six months. Sometimes it feels like it was just yesterday, other times it feels like it's been years.

I didn't forget about this day, but I didn't dread it as much as the 13th's of previous months. I am sad and I miss you terribly, but this month the feelings of grief are not as heavy on my heart.

I think I am learning how to carry my pain in a new way. At first it swallowed me whole. I was unable to do or think about anything but how much I missed you and how much I was hurting. My heart broke so completely that I was unable to handle anything else. It was all consuming, and blinding, and numbing.

But now it feels different. I still carry my grief, and my loss, and my pain. But I find that I am also able to be thankful, and happy, and excited about the future. I am able to hold my feelings in layers.

On the top layer is whatever I am feeling at the moment. I may be looking forward to a weekend away, or I may be tired from a hard workout. I may be laughing with my husband about something he said, or I may be sharing a funny story with a girlfriend over lunch. I may be feeling lazy, or procrastinating doing something I know I need to get done. I can do all these things now, unobstructed by my sadness.

But the sadness is always there.

It's on the bottom layer of my feelings. Like a base coat before you paint your walls, it is there always. It's the new foundation to my new normal. Some days the topcoat of paint wears thin and you can see the sadness and grief peeking out. But mostly, it gets covered up by the shiny new topcoat of paint.

From the outside you can't see it, but from the inside I know it's still there. It will always be there.

The two exist in harmony now. I carry this pain and sadness with me always, and yet it no longer stops me from experiencing happiness. Maybe this will be my new normal? Or maybe it's just a phase in my journey and tomorrow I will wake up to find myself paralyzed by grief again.

I hope not though, because this new way of layering my emotions feels like something I could sustain. It feels like a good way to deal with and acknowledge both sets of emotions. A way in which both kinds of feelings have a place and neither gets buried.

Six months from when you were born my precious baby boy. I love you and miss you and think about you every day. You were my first born and no matter what happens next, it was you who made me a Mother. I so wish you were here with me.


  1. Wishing you much gentleness today. I love how you describe you feelings in layers, that makes so much sense to me. As you say, the sadness and grief will always be with us but it changes somehow. Thanks for sharing. x

  2. Yes, it's always there, lurking underneath whatever else happens to be going on. But I'm glad that now it stays underneath sometimes for you. Thinking of you today as you go through another milestone with your little one. xx

  3. This made me tear up for about the zillionth time today. Remembering him with you....

  4. It's always there- layering is such a great way to describe the sadness. Thinking of you today...


  5. The artist in me loves how you described your feelings as layers of paint...and the mother of sons gone too soon can relate in ways that I wish neither of us understood. Thinking of you today.

  6. Thank you for sharing that. Your layers analogy was just perfect and describes so well how I have been feeling lately. The sadness just co-exists with everything else now. Less overwhelming.

    Hugs to you on this tough day.

  7. The bottom layer, learning to co-exist with its ever presence must be so hard. Be kind to yourself at this precious, bittersweet time. Think of you on this hard day x

  8. So beautifully written. I never feel like I have the right words for commenting, but you are in my prayers as you continue your journey.

  9. I don't think that other people get that we learn to co-exist with our sadness. I recently noticed that in recent pictures my mouth may be smiling, but my eyes scream sadness. Much love to you as you pass the 6 month milestone.

  10. I cried from the first sentence. What a beautiful letter to your baby, your precious boy who first made you a mother. I'm a new follower.

  11. Visiting via PYHO
    I am so sorry for your loss. I cannot even imagine. You sound like you are a very strong woman. Love and prayers to you.

  12. Eight years on and I still feel the same. Even two living children later...and the ache is still there for my first son. Beautiful post. xx