The overwhelming kind of grief is back. The kind that wakes me up in the middle of the night with sobs, the kind that keeps me from functioning, the kind that makes me push away those I love because I am in such pain.
Maybe I should have seen this coming. This is one year from the worst of everything. One year ago we found out that Elizabeth was never going to recover in any meaningful sense - that her brain damage from the cord accident was a death sentence. That my precious perfect baby girl would never grow up. That she would never again hear our voices as she had in utero. Never see or have control of her limbs or speak or eat or be able to control her own temperature. And the world as I had known it for 33 years ended and instead I live in this new horrible place.
This place without Elizabeth.
And after a year the grief feels as new as it was then and I am drowning in it.
All of those good days, those days of acceptance and peace, I don't know what they were good for. Not in moments like this.
And most of my dreams now are about what horrible thing might happen next. The new baby has no heartbeat at our next ultrasound. My husband dies in a car crash. I assume life is cursed now and I just wait for the next shoe to drop.

I so know how you feel. I get this sometimes as well.
ReplyDeleteI have had some major lows with our one year mark approaching, very much the same feelings. Hugs xo
ReplyDeleteWaiting for the next shoe to drop....a horrible way to live and yet I am right here with you. Grief can be so mean, it "attacked" me this week as well...I wish I knew how to escape it. Thinking about you and Elizabeth.
ReplyDeleteI have moments of feeling the exact same way. I hate the feeling of not having control of it all.
ReplyDeletethis really hit me today. I am so incredibly sad that Elizabeth died. I am sorry you find yourself gasping for air. You and I may have been crying tears all night together. We had plans to drive to yosemite today. I was up all night sobbing in bed, trying not to wake my son who was sleeping with us. My husband waking intermittently. UNABLE to find sleep because I live this life without my daughter. Sobbing, aching sadness. We couldn't go hiking. I was just to exhausted. Functioning is hard without sleep, with so much pain. I worry about the things you worry about...the mortality of everyone I love is in constant question. love to you my friend.
ReplyDeleteoh, this is so heartbreaking to read. such a horrible feeling, and I'm sorry it's hitting you so hard today... but it's expected, obviously with such a tremendous loss. hoping for great things in your future to bring you some joy, even though you/we will always live with this great sorrow.
ReplyDeleteIf only it was a case of improving a little more each day... I hate the unpredictability of grief. I hate that just as I think I'm doing pretty ok, and that I might actually survive this, something knocks me down again. It's such a hard, difficult thing to live with. I'm sorry you're in a downturn at the moment. And I'm thinking of you and Elizabeth at this horrible anniversary. xx
ReplyDeleteI find that somedays greif just sneaks up on you and makes itself very comfortable and other days I feel super stong and positive about my future.
ReplyDeleteI hope that tomorrow will bring you some light.
Marisa