I never realized how physically exhausting it is to live. You see since loosing Sam, I have fought to live each day of my life. For the past five months I have thought about what it would be like with him here and acknowledge how my life has changed since he was born. These are thoughts that are constantly running through my head. I could be having a conversation with someone and they have no clue as to what my brain is really processing. In this effort to conform to "normalcy" I have let my guard down and put myself in a situation that I wasn't in a state of mind to do. This weekend I attended a festival that was great for regular people, but not for me. I was surrounded by friends and families with smiles on their faces having a wonderful day enjoying each others company. Not to mention the babies in my face all day and the happy families. Let me clear one thing up, it is not so much the babies and pregnant women that tear me apart but it's the happy families that just make me feel like the unexplainable. Don't get me wrong I cringe when I hear a baby cry or make those cute little baby noises; but happy families, Ugh!
Needless to say, I did something that I wasn't ready for that day. Since my grief likes to take the route of a spinning spiral, I can change at any moment. For the past couple of days all I have wanted to do is curl up next to Sam's wall and veg out for hours on end. Then life gets in the way and I do things to please others instead of respecting my emotions at the moment. I am realizing again, that just because I have a daughter and it has been 5 months since I lost Sam, does not mean that I head into a "normal" life. I need to do what is right for me and my family.
Back to my exhaustion. I know many of you will shake your head in agreement when I say that grief is physically exhausting, while others will do the same out of false empathy. There are moments in my days where I feel that I am literally trying to catch my breath or hold my eyes open. This is in no means because I am over exerting myself physically throughout the day, it is because I am so emotional drained. I wonder how long this will last? Then again, I don't want it to stop. I feel like stopping the pain that I feel for loosing Sam is a reminder of it's reality; a reminder that he existed. I know, I know, I won't ever forget my son; but, being happy, to me, feels like I have started a new chapter. For those of you that don't know me, I do not like to settle. And, being content in my life without my son feels like settling. It brings me back to my post about "acceptance". It is not okay that my son died, and it is not okay that people will forget him and forget my family's grief.
I will forever be missing my baby and I will forever be grieving. I will not heal I will only manage to live knowing I am one day closer to being with my baby boy. So, please, spare me the speech and let me grieve.