As the lovely month of April carries along, my reality as a grieving mother rises up to throat punch me. Child loss has everlasting effects and as a grieving mother I am living them all.
I was asked to help plan an educational retreat sort of thing by a friend of mine. “You’re so good at getting things done!” she exclaimed. My stomach clenched up and my mouth started to hurt. (My trigeminal neuralgia acts up when I am stressed.) “What do I say?” I thought to myself.
At this moment in time, I needed to release my inner Ado Annie and “just say no”
So, that is exactly what I did.
I am neck deep in all the aspects of attempting to be somewhat of an entrepreneur that elude me. I have blogs to categorize and key words to use. I have posts to create and share and comments to make on episodes. When I become overwhelmed, I watch Netflix, or stare into space.
My phone regales me with articles and posts about adult ADHD and trauma responses and menopausal reasons for everything under the sun. But in reality, losing a child does not alter the rest of the world in the same way it alters the grieving mother.
Nope, not one bit.
I gain comfort on social media by checking in on my angel moms, those mothers far and wide who understand the pain of losing a child in ways only we who have lost them can. It isn’t that my other friends and acquaintances don’t understand me, or at the very least empathize or even sympathize, they do.
I am surrounded by love.
And searching for it at the very same time.
When I did my podcast season on “Breathing Underwater” I referred to the definition of insanity frequently. It goes like this,
“The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.”
Or this one. “If you find yourself in a hole, stop digging”
Much of my day-to-day life is me shooting myself in the foot, complaining about what I don’t like and then finding myself unable or unwilling to change it.
I am currently 12 pounds overweight. I carry it in my stomach, so I am quite uncomfortable. (What do I do? Well, sure I count my macros and such, but I also consume alcohol which is a well-known weight contributor for me.)
My finances are a mess. (What do I do? Well, sure I cancel subscriptions I don’t need, but then I sign up for other things that I also don’t need.)
My podcast, blog and newsletter are fun but stagnant. (What do I do? Well sure I post a thumbnail on my story and do weekly blogs and episodes. But I do nothing to market or promote them.)
I spend spend spend with the internal promises that I will “start tomorrow”. It’s funny, I criticize Kenny for putting things off until the “never to arrive” tomorrow, but I am guilty of it as well.
I am on my beloved porch as I write. My stomach is bloated and (to me) fat. I have a shit ton of tasks on my “someday I will do these things” list and I want nothing more than to crawl into bed.
Another piece of my personal way of dealing with trauma, child loss and grief is to simply lie still. To do nothing. To just stay perfectly still. I can do this for hours when I am really struggling.
While there are many people in my life who tell me I inspire them with how much I do and all my accomplishments blahblahblah all I see is my failures. (Insert self-pity here). I write about these things because I know how much women compare themselves to one another.
As I navigate through all of the trials and tribulations of my life I want folks to know that there are wonderful times along with really horrible times. As abnormal as we want trauma and tragedy to be, they will forever remain a normal part of life.
My podcast episode this week is a bit on the downside. I talk a lot about sibling grief. I talk about loneliness and how losing a child is a hurt that does not heal. Child loss is a hurt that you learn to live with.
Sort of like losing a foot.
Sure, the stump heals. Yes, the prosthetic foot is helpful. Yes, you still have one good foot. But you are never ever the same and only others who have lost a foot truly understand.
I have a lot to feel okay about and be excited about.
We are going to see Gracie soon. I am working at The Boston Marathon this year. I am training well in the gym. I have done 100 burpees a day since Molly’s birthday. While these milestones, plans and adventures may not be over the top, they are enough above the midline to count as positive. I am at the apex of glass half empty/glass half full.
I think I will just say I am half a glass of ok, on the rocks, with salt.