June 8 is the six year anniversary for my daughter Marilena's (Mary -Lane- Ah) still birth at 39 weeks. Today a grief wave has hit me. I literally felt knocked down today. This time I'm reaching out. I'm writing. I've been calling friends and when I feel like crying I'm going to let it out. Even if I have to call a friend over, which I did this morning to watch Luc while I be with what I'm feeling.
Part of me thought, "I thought I was okay with all this." And most of me is okay, and there's a part of me still kicking and screaming wishing I was celebrating a six year olds birthday soon. It wants to see her play with her siblings in addition to all the good I have now.
When I sit with that feeling and try to imagine my life different than it is now. It's all fake. It's forced. Trying to imagine a six year old here can only happen in my imagination. It's aggravating to try. It can't be better than what I have right now, day to day, moment to precious moment.
And what I have now is real for me, it's tangible. I can see, touch, and hear and feel my husband and kids all who have a heartbeat. I cannot properly picture life with Marilena without dwelling on pain that serves me NOT.
Marilena is fine in God's arms, and I'm thankful for her. I'm grateful for the grief I've learned so much from, because there is a maturity and compassion that came after my heart broke into pieces. I let my heart break and break and break for her, for my husband, for my kids… for me.
I'm realizing after six years, it's not done breaking. If that's the way it's suppose to be. It's okay, I'll take it. I'll take the time to cry and let out these tantrums of pain in whatever form they are suppose to come out. What always comes after a release like that is relief, and peace and realizations that I'm okay. My heart breaking did not break my love. It's opened me up to my Highest Power.
My heart breaking crushes out the worst parts of me, and allows me to be real. What have I been protecting myself from all this time anyway? What is so terrible about being vulnerable and open and being with my feelings. I guess if it was easy everyone would be at peace. Here's to going for peace.
I want my baby girl to know mommy's okay. I'm grateful I was chosen to be her mother, because I would do it again.
The biggest realization out of all of this, even though I thought I was so alone, God, Jesus, the Holy Spirit, my Highest Power, has been with me the whole time. All I have to do is remember, and lean in.
The part of her that is most real for me is the love my heart feels now. I love you. Thank you.