by Angela Miller
I am still a person like you, with a life like yours, yet not. I am still a mother like you, yet not at all like you, all at the same time. I wish there was some way you could understand me, without becoming who I am now.
You see, there’s a pain I carry, unlike any pain you carry, unless you are a bereaved mother too. This pain I carry is always there. It doesn’t nap during the day, or get safely tucked into bed at night. It follows me everywhere, it never leaves my side– like my son used to do, only grief is not cuddly, nor sweet.
No, a mother’s grief is a torturous life sentence, that no one wants to live. It’s bargaining for a different ending, over and over again, one where no one dies. It’s the panic of it happening again, any time, anywhere… It’s the toxic self-blame that never turns its finger around to blame itself. It’s the spiraling of obsessive thoughts, (what if… if only?) seeping its poison through every crevice of my mind. It’s the regret, so convincing that I failed as a mother, powerless to protect my child from death. Yes, grief’s emotions are as unpredictable as the ocean tide, crashing down on me to drown me alive.
I have three kids, not two. My first son died.
There, I said it. I know you may not want to hear it. Neither do I, yet I have to say it over and over and over again to slowly wrap my mind around the incomprehensible truth. My son is dead.
It might make you uncomfortable for a moment, yet I am uncomfortable for a lifetime.
Either I pretend he never existed, for your comfort, or, to my own discomfort, this new life of mine comes with dreaded and sometimes hostile reactions– blank stares, awkward silences, big eyes bugging out of shocked faces; or worse, looks of despair, pity, shame, judgment; even, turning of backs, that walk away, leaving me in mid-sentence of my pain. Or, worst of all, altogether ceasing to be my friend, upon discovering that, I am a bereaved mother.
Please, do not judge me by circumstances beyond my control. Do not think you are more powerful than God, that this could never happen to you. Do not imply by your words or your looks that I am a bad mother because my child died. Do not think I didn’t try everything humanly possible to save my son from death.
Let me tell you something, if a mother’s love was enough to protect her children from all harm then children would never die.
Please remember, I did not choose this version of my life. I am living yet dying, breathing yet suffocating, laughing yet crying. I am a mother like you yet a bereaved mother all at the same time. I am a mother’s worst nightmare, only it’s not a dream. It’s my life.
While you complain about your kids spilling milk or painting on the wall, I swallow my grief whole, silently choking on my wish for my problems to be just. Like. Yours. Paint splattered all over my walls, milk spilled, covering my kitchen floor. I am aching for the signs of my toddler living, breathing, playing, alive in my home. I am longing for iterations of what could have been.
Instead, I have an empty chair at every meal, the contents of my son’s entire life neatly stacked in sharpie-marked boxes in storage that now smells more like mildew and dust than of my son.
Instead, my lap seems full, but it is always one-third empty. I’m left with a math equation that never equates. No matter how many times I count, my children never add up to three. One is always missing. And a million more could never replace or erase the pain of missing the one who now lives only in the confines of my memory.
There is an eternal hole in my heart, in my life, the size and shape of him and only him, that no one and nothing will ever be able to fill.
I am a bereaved mother, a grieving quasi-supermom; I straddle time and space. You might feel pulled in two directions, but let me tell you how it feels to be pulled between heaven and earth, as a mother to an angel and a mother to two living, breathing, laughing little boys. A mother to the living and the dead.
Let me tell you how it feels to have my son deleted, his existence denied because it makes people uncomfortable to hear he lived and he died.
He is as real to me now as he was in life. He is not some inconvenient truth– he is my son. He will always be my son, just as I will always be his mother, because love never dies.
Next time you see me in the grocery store, at the playground, or across the street, please remember:
I am still a person like you, with a life like yours, yet not. I am still a mother like you, yet not at all like you, all at the same time. I am a bereaved mother, a grieving quasi-supermom; I straddle time and space.
I wish there was some way you could understand me, without becoming who I am now.
I wrote this after becoming disheartened, frustrated, and feeling constantly misunderstood by the world. I wished there could be a bridge to close the gap between us– the bereaved and the non-bereaved parent– but in writing this, I realized that the only bridge of understanding, is a one-way bridge. One we would never wish upon anyone, for to understand means to be become bereaved. The only bridge is your child dying. Then you understand, and there’s no going back to that place of blissful ignorance. Before it happens you cannot go there; you cannot imagine it; it is too hard, too painful, too much like every parent’s worst nightmare. Still, if I could create a two way bridge of understanding, this would be it.
ANGELA MILLER is an internationally known writer and speaker on grief and loss. She is the best-selling author of You Are the Mother of All Mothers, and the founder and executive director of the award-winning grief organization, A Bed For My Heart. After the death of her son, Angela founded A Bed For My Heart in 2013, and has given people around the world a compassionate and supportive community to express their grief and honor their children. Her article, “7 Things I’ve Learned Since the Loss of My Child,” has been shared over one million times. Angela’s website ABedForMyHeart.com has almost two million visitors per year, and has become a trusted resource for grieving families worldwide. She has been featured in People, Psychology Today, Huffington Post, Blog Talk Radio, Love What Matters, Listen to Your Mother, and more. Angela’s writing has comforted millions of hurting hearts around the world. You Are the Mother of All Mothers is her first book, and is dedicated to grieving mothers everywhere.
Text and images © Angela Miller and A Bed For My Heart 2012-2017. All rights reserved.
Angela,
I NEVER comment or post or share anything. I keep to myself and hide my feelings from the world, somehow hoping that doing so will mean it’s all going to go away. Of course, I know the truth. It never will. Reading this article compelled me to respond. I printed it out and highlighted every feeling that I share with you. I think it would have been easier to highlight the other words. I have felt everything you mentioned. My son died three years, six months ago. I still have all his clothes in his closet. Today, I began washing them, planning to give them to a local charity that helps the homeless. You see, my son was 34 when he died. But it doesn’t matter the age or the circumstances. I still feel the same things every mother like us feels. I’m always counting….I have three girls…but I’m missing one son. After all this time, I still count. My heart will never stop hurting, I will never “move on”, there is no “closure”. Thanks for putting into words my exact feelings.
Lynne– It’s 2 1/4 years since my middle son died and 5 1/2 years since my youngest died. I still have their clothes in their closets. I may have changed some things around in their rooms and made one son’s room a shared room (his room and a studio for myself), but they will always be their rooms. Sometimes I want to move away, but then I realize leaving this home that they once occupied with me, would be yet one more doorway to them closed. I need those spaces to go into, and just be with them from time to time. I still feel them more vividly those moments.
There’s no timetable on when you have to remove their things. If you’re ready to do it, you do it, and you will be helping others through your son, but if you can’t, that’s okay too. Hopefully no one has made judgemental comments about moving on. There is no moving on..There’s moving forward, but moving on means minimizing their lives. Moving forward is simply that. Life goes on, but they will always be a part of us. <3
Sorry for your loss, i lost my only 43 yr old daughter to cancer 4 1/2 yrs ago 4/23/17????????
Amen. I lost my oldest daughter at 35. She is forever with me, yet not here, as I help care for her babies who were 2-1/2 and 5. It’s been six years now, and I still miss her every damn day, and mourn not only my loss of her, but her loss of being able to watch her babies grow up. No one can understand the journey unless they live it too, but I don’t want anyone else to have to live this.
I like you am a grieving mother. 17 years this August. Pray every day that it will not happen again. My heart is with you.❤
,,i wished more than life its self to be able to reach threw this computer and hug you ,,the writting was beautiful written yet sad & heart breaking to read ,i have never had a child to pass away and i thank God everyday ,yet i do mourn deeply for friends or family that have lost a child ,a friends child passed away about a month ago ,in her sleep at the age of 14 ,she had eplipies and would stop breathing threw her siezures at night ,i daily pray for my friend &her family for peace , my daughter in law miscarried twins about 3 yrs ago ,she had her tubes tied after there 7 yr old was born ,so the babies would not have survived cos they were topiical ,i hope i said that right ,it was a devasting thing for both daughter in law & my son ,it took awhile for them to be able to talk about it ,i as the grandmother couldnt be there for they were in florida & i was in georgia ,i spoke to both on the phone ,my response was as i cried ,{ there are to many words ,yet not enough } we all new it was not meant to be ,God needed those babies back i believe for all the moms in heaven who never got a chance to have babies ,it has been a struggle for all of use ,there 13 yr old daughter is still in remission from luekimia and there youngest who is 7 has autisum ,so even though we are all blessed with both these children , we do hurt and we do talk about the twins who God come back to get ,,you have my deepest condolences from the bottom of my heart for the passing of your child ,may you always be blessed ,sheila
Love you for putting into words what many feel everyday…
So perfectly put, you echo my feelings entirely. I will always be my son’s mother and will love and miss him forever as well. Thank you. Wishing you peace
Thank you Angela. I struggle everyday. My life has changed so much after loosing my son 20 months ago. My heart hurts in ways I never thought possible. Thank you for reaching out and making me feel not so alone. Angela B
Angela
You are NOT alone..wish I could give you a hug in person but I will send this one ((hugs)). Your heart will hurt for a while but trust me when I tell you the hurt will subside, it will never go away but it will subside
Oh my Angela, wow, thank you so much for sharing – articulating such raw real truths of a grieving mother – you spoke to my mind body & soul ????
Thank you for putting my grief into words. xoxoxo
Your writing and truth are magnificent. This was perfect to put in words who we are now. I have followed you since I lost my son. He died on his 47th birthday, August 21, 2016 of a sudden cardiac event. No one knew he would leave us so soon. Married with 4 children. Sometimes I think, we as Mothers get forgotten. A wife and children grieve differently than a Mother. Thank you for being part of my healing.
I lost my 9 year old daughter 7 months ago every word your write is how I feel.
Soon after losing my daughter a friend who lost his son told me I was now one of “them”. A “club” if you will never escape. You have explained it so well. Thank you for pouring your heart out. It helps so many of us.
XOXOXO
I am a bereaved father, having lost my adult son three years ago. I understand everything you say; the loss you describe I identify with, but in otherways it’s different.
Each loss is unique to us, but still feel an unwitting participant in this new club I’ve joined. I guess I will never be comfortable in having joined this club.
KB
I lost my 9 year old daughter a year ago; I can relate to everything you wrote. I have to depend on Jesus for comfort, my sanity, and pray for the peace that passes understanding every moment. My grief is a permanent handicap, invisible but always there. May God give us a deep awareness of His love and nearness and the strength to carry this burden.
I lost my 24 year old son, Connor, to suicide July 7th, 2016. He was my middle son. I too struggle especially when the question is asked, “How many kids do you have?” Connor had a very long struggle with Schizo Affective Disorder/Bi-polar Type. He was also addicted to Marijuana mixed with tobacco. He was both physically and mentally ill. I tried so hard, for years and years, to get him help. He fell victim to our corrupt and unjust Judicial System. Going down that deep dark hole was horrific for someone that is ill. When he died he left his girlfriend carrying his child. She was going to terminate the pregnancy but she chose to keep the baby. Sawyer Rae was born on February 14th, 2017. A day that brings me sadness and now joy. You see my best friend, Andrew, died by suicde almost 40 years ago at the age of 17 on Valentine’s Day. I believe Sawyer being born on this day was a sign. Thank you for sharing your grief. I struggle everyday.
Angela
Thank you for sharing your story with me as it gave me some comfort. You see July 19th 2006 my 2 sons, age 19 and 16 along with another young man were involved in a serious motor vehicle accident in which my 16 year old and the other young man died. My 19 year old was driving the car. He survived.. My life totally changed on that horrible day
Your story is so close to my story. I also lost my oldest child, a son, many years ago. I vividly remember seeing mothers of his classmates avoiding me at the grocery store, my own church members trying to “fix” me with a weekly dinner rotation, yet no one would mention his name. Today I volunteer with grieving children because no one knew how to help my almost 3-year old who had lost his only friend, his brother, and could not articulate how he was feeling, yet he was feeling the loss so deeply. I have healed, but the scars remain. I will never be that young naïve mother again, and I feel sad about that. I remember going to a gathering and hearing a mother complain about how “hard it was to raise a gifted child.” Wow. I learned. I learned to appreciate what I have. I learned to make peace with this burden I have, setting me apart from most, but giving me the perspective to understand others’ grief. Thanks for sharing your insight with us.
Your story is so similar to my story. I lost my first child, a son, many year ago. I remember his classmates’ mothers avoiding me at the grocery store. I remember people from my church inviting me to dinner on a rotating schedule, but yet would not mention his name. I lost that naïve young mom that I was. I don’t know her any more. I miss her, but I don’t know if I could stand being her. Today I help grieving children as a volunteer facilitator for a grief group because I remember trying to help my almost 3 year old child understand the death of his only friend, his brother, when he didn’t have the words to describe what he was feeling. I lost what I had. I gained the ability to help others in their grief. While grief never goes away, it gives way to making one stronger, more understanding, and able to accept others’ grief.
I read this with tears in my eyes. My only child died almost 4 years ago from suicide at the age of 15. It’s a delicate balance on what to say and when to tell people what happened when asked if I have children. And, as if losing a child wasn’t enough, there’s the stigma of suicide that makes people look at me (and makes me look at myself) as more of a failure.
Thank you for putting it into words better than I possibly could…
I too lost my son to suicide this past October so I most definitely understand dealing with the grief , the stigma and the feeling that everyone looks at you as a failure of a mom. I rationally know in my mind that most people don’t actually think of me as a failure but that voice in your head tells you that they do. And then there is the voice inside you that tells you yourself that you failed which is considerably worse….
I lost my 21 year old son on May 21, 2017 to suicide. He shot himself while everyone in the house was sleeping. I didn’t find him until that next evening. I think we are the ones who torture ourselves with guilt. Even though I was asleep, I cast judgement upon myself for not having a clue what he had in mind for that night, for not waking up, for not hearing the gun go off downstairs, and for not even knowing the next day that that god awful stench was the massive amounts of blood that flowed from my dying son the night before. I am my own worst enemy right now.
Thank you for having the words to describe how I feel. As hard as I try, I can’t get then out quite like that.
We lost our only son, at 4 years old, to a horribly rare cancer 25 weeks ago. I am 24 weeks pregnant with his baby brother. I worry every day we will go through the same thing all over again.
This is beautiful, perfect, sad, true. I lost my 8 year old daughter 5 years ago (or was it yesterday? It feels like both) and your words spoke directly to my soul and from my soul at the same time.
Thank you so much
I want to thank the author of this article. I too have lost an only child, my son. He graduated from high school in June of 1988 and was killed in August of 1988. He was killed on a Monday morning on his way to work and was suppose to leave for college the following Sunday. Not a day has gone by that I haven’t thought about my Tim, and my life has never been the same, I never got to say good-bye. People say you have to get over it, but I always ask how? There is an empty spot in my heart that can never be filled. They say it gets easier but in my eyes it never has, you just learn to live with it, until we meet again, I love and miss you my son with all my heart. I am still a grieving mother after almost 29 years.
beautiful. .. thank you… I’m sadly needing this and understanding this. my 21 yo son died suddenly and tragically two and a half months ago. he is my first born of four children and my only son. thank you and I am so sorry you are also going through this. ????
Thank you
Wow. I lost my 21 yr old daughter almost a year ago while she was living and working in Scotland. This is the first time I have ever seen anything that comes close to explaining the pain that I feel every day. I have been completely ignored by some friends and have others who don’t want to hear about it or just cut you from their lives because they don’t want to deal with it or are scared it’s catching and somehow my daughter’s death will cause their children to be susceptible to the same fate. Thank you for putting words to the pain. I know I will never be the same again and the fear I feel for my son is consuming as he leaves to venture out in the world. Some people say “he’ll be fine, don’t stress” but it happened to her and there is no control over it. Thank you for making me feel less panic and alone with this all consuming grief.
Love how you said this, I was alwAys looking for the right way to explain, or just let people know how I felt, people act like my son never existed, he has been in heaven for/ yrs, but he is still with me always in my heart.
Pulled between heaven & earth. You hit the nail on the head. I’m lucky enough that all the non understanding folks have long gone. Most of my friends catch themselves complaining and rephrase it. Or at least ask me what form my grief is that day.
But man did that sentence hit me hard.
Your boy is so proud of you. Know that much. ????
You writing is what I have felt every day for many years. I lost 2 sons, 10 years apart. I honestly don’t know how I have breathed day after day, but I have. People I know don’t mention my sons, because as you said, it makes them uncomfortable. DEAD, DIED, PASSED, GONE, those words speak to me all the time. They were my sons. They lived to be 18 and 26 years old. How can they be forgotten? I am the only one who can keep there memory alive. I try to, every chance I get. I speak of them every day, but only to myself.
Thank you for creating and sharing this.I had to tell a (I think and hope) well-meaning relative that some of her comments after the loss of my son really hurt me. I tried to give her some insight into what it’s like to lose a child and what is helpful and what isn’t and how maybe listening instead of trying to “fix” and provide answers she and no one else has would be better. She responded with “Well, none of us are experts at this sort of thing.” All I could tell her is “The “experts” (whoever she meant by that) don’t even know…even they don’t understand what it’s like unless they have experienced it.” So I guess the only expert on the grief of losing a child is the mother/parent who has lost one…that’s my thought on the matter.
We think of your Kirsten often and of you, her parents and brother!
This is so powerfull and so sad and so beautiful all at the same time, sorry if that is the wrong thing to say I just mean beautiful because what comes through is how very very much you love your beautiful child. I don’t know what to say…what is there to be said, but I am in tears and send my heart out to you xxxx
I wish I had another child to nurture. I only had one, and now he lives with Jesus…16 years of Blessed time I got with him….drugs were not the blame….Aspergers and not being able to cope were the devil….GOD I MISS HIM….
This resonates deeply with my heart and soul. My oldest son died after 7 perfect minutes in this earth. He was so small, so perfect, and felt nothing but pure love for his whole life.
As I read these words “As a mother to an angel and an angel and a mother to two living, breathing, laughing little boys”, my mind automatically switched the wording to fit my life. “A mother to two living, breathing, laughing children” as I have a son and daughter still on earth. I spent most of my life in denial, a silent agony that I didn’t want the world to know. I have only begun to start the process of coping with the loss of my oldest son-I was 16 when he was born. As such, my son and daughter don’t know about Zachariah. They aren’t stable enough emotionally for me to tell them at this time, although I hope them to be soon. My son would be turning 18 in exactly 7 weeks, shortly after graduating high school. Seeing other parents as they prepare for graduation, filling out college applications, having senior pictures taken hits hard. Many complain about the costs associated with this, while I sit and wish I was having to spend that money on my son.
Thank you for being able to elocute how so many of us mothers and fathers feel.
THANK YOU FOR GIVING ME A PLACE FOR MY WORDS. MY SON WILL HAVE BEEN GONE THREE YRS ON JUNE 24th. HE WAS 49yrs OLD WHEN HE DIED. HE WAS THE MIDDLE CHILD OF THREE. ONLY SON. HE HAD BEEN ILL SINCE BIRTH. I WAS TOLD SO MANY TIMES THAT HE WOULD DIE SOON THAT I LOST COUNT. HE DEVELOPED ONE AWFUL DISEASE AFTER ANOTHER. HE WAS IN PAIN ALL HIS LIFE. BUT HE WANTED TO LIVE MORE THAN ANYONE I KNOW.THE NIGHT HE DIED I WAS IN AS MUCH SHOCK AS A MOTHER WITH A HEALTHY CHILD. I NEVER GOT TO SAY GOODBY. I WAS TAKING CARE OF MT 89yr OLD MOTHER WHO WAS IN THE LAST STAGES OF PANCREATIC CANCER. THEN THE EARTH SHATTERED AS I GOT THE CALL!!!!!!!!!!! I HAVE NOT ONE DAY SINCE HE DIED NOT CRIED. I DONT KNOW HOW A PERSON CAN SURVIVE A LOSS LIKE THIS. THERE IS NOT A WORD FOR IT. I DO SAY IT FEELS UNBEARABLE…… THAT IS WHAT IT FEES LIKE! TWO MONTHS AFTER MY BILLY DIED MY YOUNGEST GIRL WHO ALSO HAD MAJOR HEALTH PROBLEMS,TOLD ME I NEEDED TO SNAP OUT OF IT AS SHE WAS THE ONE WHO WAS ILL NOW! IF THAT SOUNDS MEAN WELL IT SOUNDED MEAN TO ME ALSO BUT I PUT KY GRIEF ON THE BACK BURNER AND JUMPED IN HEAD FIRST TO HELP HER. IT WAS HORRIBLE TO WATCH HER IN PAIN ALL THE TIME. LOOSING SO MUCH WEIGHT THAT I COULD NOT BELIEVE SHE COULD STILL BE ALIVE. THEN A MIRACLE HAPPENED IN HER LIFE. THEY PUT HER ON A LIST FOR A DOUBLE TRANSPLANT. PANCREAS AND KIDNEY. IT WAS SEVERAL MONTHS BEFORE SHE GOT THAT CALL THAT SHE WAS NEXT BUT SHE GOT IT AND GOT THE ORGANS FROM A VERY WONDERFUL FAMILY WHO HAD THE SAME TRAGEDY THAT WE ALL HAVE SUFFERED. THE ORGANS WERE VERY HEALTHY AND A GOOD MATCH FOR MY DAUGHTER. SHE HAD THE OPERATION ONE YEAR AGO THIS MONTH. IT DID SAVE HER LIFE BUT SHE IS IN AGONY MOST OF THE TIME FROM OTHER COMPLICATIONS THAT DO NOT GO AWAY AFTER YOU GET A NEW ORGAN.BOTH MY KIDS HAD AMONG OTHER THINGS TYPE ONE DIABETES. I NEVER FEEL SAFE FROM IT HAPPENING AGAIN. AND EVEN IF I DID NOT WORRY ABOUT HER I WOULD STILL FEEL LIKE A WALKING ZOMBIE FROM THE LOSS OF MY SON. I ACTUALLY THINK IT HURTS WORSE NOW! THE ONLY THING THAT HAS HELPED ME WERE THE WORDS THAT SAID…….THE PAIN THAT YOU FEEL FOR YOUR CHILD THAT DIED IS EQUAL TO THE LOVE THAT YOU FELT FOR THAT CHILD……….THAT SAYS IT ALL FOR ME. AND IT IS WHAT I NOW SAY WHEN I GET THE SOMETIMES NOT SO NICE WORDS THAT IT IS TIME THAT I MOVE ON………………I DO BELIEVE THAT NO ONE AND I MEAN NO ONE CAN EVEN GET A GLIMPSE OF THE PAIN THAT WE FEEL UNTIL IT HAPPENS TO THEM. I KNOW THAT FOR ME EVEN BEING TOLD FOR 49yrs THAT I MUST GET READY FOR THE LOSS OF MY SON. THAT IT WAS SIMPLY IMPOSSIBLE. I THINK OF ALL YOU OUT THERE AND KNOW THAT NO MATTER HOW WEAK WE FEEL WE TRULY ARE SURVIVORS. EVEN IF IT IS ONLY BECAUSE WE HAVE TO BE. IT TAKES A BRAVE MAMA TO WALK THIS STRANGE AND OFTEN HARSH NEW LANDSCAPE WITHOUT BEING ABLE TO HOLD THE HAND OF THE ONLY REASON I EVER WANTED TO LIVE IN THE FIRST PLACE. JUST TO BE A MOTHER……………………..LOVE TO YOU ALL…….KATHY
I lost my adult 46 year old son to an overdose on November 7, 2012 He was the love of my life. Everyday is filled with his emptiness, and although I can afford to travel or have things I want – they mean nothing – without my son, my world is empty. I can’t barely smile. Tears fill my eyes everyday. People try to comfort me in their way, and I know they care, but it doesn’t move my pendulum to the happy side. My son’s father recently passed, and although we were divorced, he was my first love and we had this son. I lost my mother 5 months after my son, and my daddy two years after that. So, I lost my family in three years, so my grief is more complicated. I believe that he is in heaven. I had five signs on my phone that said, “January 5 4:00 p.m., which was the day of his memorial. I didn’t have a calendar on my phone that I used. I go to church and have had grief counseling which helped, but as time passes on, it’s just longer that I have seen him, so I miss him more. My friends have children and grandchildren, and I have nothing. I am happy for them but my life has changed forever. Thanks for your website.
I read this and it resonated so deeply with me I had to share it to my sisters and will most likely pass it on to well meaning but completely off base friends. Like please don’t compare the death of your cousin baby mama to the death of my beautiful (not being biased, he really was beautiful) son. I sometimes seriously wonder what if anything people are thinking when they open their mouths.
Does anyone on this site have any links, info on self medicating after this horrific loss happens? Maybe there is another blog post on this but I have yet to find it. I find myself fucked up as i find myself consuming the same drugs that compelled him to jump off the Coronado Bridge. Probably way to much TMI but I am curious as to how other parents deal with this besides Jesus because we are all not blessed with that complete certainty of God and Jesus and all that and I know is I’m not the only one self medicating. So thoughts, ideas, options … would be appreciated right now. Im 6 months out from my 23 year old baby throwing himself off the Coronado Bridge here in San Diego and not one step closer to peace . In fact it’s getting worse. I did try therapy but fired him because he was more interested in my past life than the grief I’m dealing with now. Anyways besides trying to leave somewhat uplifting comments on some of these child loss sites this is the first real comment I have ever left. Obviously I realize self medicating is not the answer so besides Jesus and all that what do other people do to wake up everyday and somewhat function? I know the dangers of Xanax and alcohol, I’m not new to the drug thing but I also know I can’t continue down this road because it doesn’t end well. Sorry if this is triggering to Ex addicts and all but for some reason tonight I felt the need to reach out and ask and see what other people are doing to get through this shit storm. I’m fucking broken and I’m running out of ideas and I have 3 other adult kids so just checking out isn’t really an option.
Thank you for sharing your heart. Just lost our new baby boy at 10 hrs old last month. He is and will always be our third child. People definitely don’t know how to act around those of us who have lost children.
Cryptic Triptych
I want your baby
he has my husband’s skin tone;
my little boy died
●
I try not to stare
my gaze is creepy, hungry:
that smell, chubby thighs
●
I can’t stand all these
sweet pregnant women, new moms
with their hopes intact
●
[Epilogue:
I really want to,
but if you let me hold him
I might not let go]
This is exactly true and so heartbreaking. I too am a bereaved mother, whose numbers don’t add up nor to
live after losing my only daughter and first born child. It’s simply unimaginable pain and heartache daily. I pray
for all bereaved parents for peace. Without peace, life remains a constant struggle with a few happy moments
in between.
I love this. It captures so much of what I have felt over the last 26 years. My oldest died when he was five, and in very family photo, at every family celebration there is a missing space – very visible to this mother’s eyes.
Wow … your heart-wrending description of a bereaved mother resolute with MY heart many times over!! I lost my first born, eldest of two sons, Scott, to suicide on 17 September 2015 … two years ago … while detoxing off heroin, and walking a long road of struggle with drugs. To others I may look the same on the OUTside, but INSIDE I am VERY different. I carry the sadness of the devastating loss of my beautiful son with me every day!! I am aware of his absence wherever I am. My heart longs for him … I wish to have him back … because I loved him SO MUCH.
And I’ve discovered that my love for him CONTINUES … but it’s a love “laced” with much loss and grief.
Your words you SO adequately “penned” SPEAK to my heart. I will FOR EVER be an imcomplete mom!!!
Estelle
Tyvm for sharing I lost my only daughter 31 months ago it is such a long hard painful lonely journey my life & I have changed forever ..by reading all tge comments i don’t feel so alone & all us grieving mothers are the only ones that truly understand because we are wearing them shoes that we thought we would never have to ..may God bring each if us comfort strength hope
Tyvm for sharing I lost my only daughter 31 months ago it is such a long hard painful lonely journey my life & I have changed forever ..by reading all the comments i don’t feel so alone & all us grieving mothers are the only ones that truly understand because we are wearing them shoes that we thought we would never have to ..may God bring each if us comfort strength hope
I lost my second child and only daughter January 22, 2005. She wasn’t born with life in her 1 and a half pound beautiful little body but it changed my life in many ways. Some people think that it hurts less since I didn’t have minutes or years of memories of watching her grow up, but I’m here to tell you it still hurts . I feel for all of you parents that did have minutes or years of memories to grieve over because I don’t think I could have gotten through the grieving and the broken hearted feelings and the emptiness I have felt for my loss if I had been able to spend one minute of time with my baby girl alive. Am I better off missing that one difference from all the other Mother’s? In my heart I feel guilty for even thinking that way because it sounds so cold hearted, but I couldn’t have delt with it otherwise. It has become easier for me to carry on after 13 years of grieving and being angry at myself and God for taking my baby girl from me. But I finally realized she went to heaven without one second of sin from this Earth, so she returned to heaven as pure and as God like just the same as she was given to me. And that has given me a little bit of peace just knowing she was a perfect God sent Angel that never knew hurt, pain, loss or illness. She will always be pure and perfect until the day I get to see her again. And as strange as that may sound to some of you, that’s the only peace I gain from my loss. I pray that all of you parents that are grieving your losses that God will give you some kind of peace and the streingh to carry on and be able to be there for the children you do have here on Earth and don’t cut them short of the love and closeness they need and deserve from you also. Praying for you all, God Bless.