Just days after Audrey died and I delivered her, I found this amazing site called dailystrength.com and it has a support group for parents who have experienced a stillbirth. The ladies that I have met through that site have been some of the best sources of comfort during the worst days of my life. One of them I'll have the honor of meeting in October when we attend an event she organized in honor of National Pregnancy & Infant Loss Remembrance Day- October 15th. I go to that site every day to check on them and read their posts about how they're doing, what they're struggling with, etc.
One post I read inparticular today really struck me. A lady who hasn't been on the board lately mentioned she's been struggling a lot and has mainly just felt "blah." She's neither happy nor sad. She's just..... there.
When I read that, it hit me like a ton of bricks. That's how I've felt every day of my life since May 5th, 2009. Sure, I smile. Sure, I laugh. I have "good" days, you could say.... and while people think I'm "getting it together," they don't realize that it is taking every last bit of energy I have to function. It is taking every last ounce in me to get up and get out of bed and not just lay in bed all day mourning my dead daughter.
The days right after the loss are the easy days to me. I knew what to do then..... I cried all the time. I laid in bed all the time. I just stared at the wall, wishing and hoping that this was all a sick nightmare that I'd wake up from. Those are the days when I knew what to do with myself and no one expected anything from me.
Now, it's like people think since it's been four months since her death and I get up and go to work every day and do my day-to-day things that I'm "better," when in reality, I'm not. I'm just as lost and confused and angry as I was the second the Doctor told me he didn't see my baby's heart beating any longer.
I'm trying to see things from a more positive side. I am very blessed with the wonderful husband and the equally amazing and beautiful daughter we have still with us. I want to take in the joy around me and embrace that, but it's so hard.
No one can truly understand how much hard work it takes to function after the death of your child, your flesh and blood.
I'm trying with everything I have - but I often wonder, how much more do I have left?