After losing James and Jake, I always questioned where I was in the grief process. I always thought I should be somewhere better, somewhere less sad, I never just accepted my grief or my tears. It didn’t help that I felt (or knew, really) that other people in my life felt like I should be elsewhere, a happier place or getting over it.
Then one day, I had dinner with my soul sister. I was voicing my concerns about my grief, which I had also done with my therapist. My wise old soul sister said to me "where ever you are in your grief, is exactly where YOU are supposed to be. "
And those words brought me GREAT comfort. It was almost like she gave me a little gift and said "here, I brought you some comfort. "
And I loved it and I continue to love it.
My tears fall less now and I feel more happiness. It’s not that I have accepted what has happened, but I also have stopped asking why . It just happened and it sucks and we deal and unfortunately, we have no choice but to move on and honestly, I think I’m doing a great job with moving on. I think I’ve always done a great job with my grief.
Some days are awesome and some days bring sadness and I appreciate both the awesome and the sad because they are authentic, nothing is for show or attention, my emotions are me.
Last week I had a phone conversation with Jenny . She is a design client of ours and we were discussing her design. I have "known" Jenny for a long time, since Racecar was a baby. I discovered Jenny right after her four month old daughter was diagnosed with leukemia. I would read her blog everyday. I prayed so hard for her and her family and it’s because of her that I would sit with my kids and cherish every ounce of them, the crying, the dirty diapers and the sleepless nights, I’d hold them tight and be grateful for the gift that was lying in my arms, she changed me, she made me a better mother.
As her daughter was about to turn nine months old, she passed away in her mother’s arms. I can remember crying so hard as I read her words, night after night after night. I can remember Brian saying to me "why are you doing this to yourself, why do you keep reading something that makes you so sad? "
I replied with "if crying for this mother and her daughter is the worst thing I have to experience in my life, than I count myself very lucky. The tears I shed and the prayers I pray are the least I can do. "
And so when I lost James and Jake and people would tell me how they cry when they read my blog and how affected they are by my words and how they are better mothers because of me? I get it.
I really get it. It’s all been very full circle with me and although I wish I had never lost my boys, knowing there are mothers out there striving to become better moms and better people, was something I did embrace.
So, when I was on the phone with Jenny, we talked about people who tend to pretend death does not happen, they avoid it, they can’t face, they don’t understand it, they think it will never happen to them. She proceeded to say "I’m sure there are people out there that think you should be over it. "
The words stung me. My legs and my arms grew numb, my heart fell to the floor. Now, I know this is not how Jenny feels, she was just expressing what it’s like to have readers who really have no idea what you are going through and how that can be a blessing and a curse. And that thought, I guess, ran across my mind before, but hearing someone else verbalize it made it even more real to me that people do think this way.
Is it possible there are people who think I should be over it? I guess so, sure. Does that affect me? Um…yeah, it does. I’m not going to lie to you, it actually pisses me off a little when I picture someone coming to my blog and being disappointed that I seem to be having a difficult day. Because my grief is mine, just mine . Everyday I get out of bed and everyday I do the best I can. Sometimes that’s a lot and sometimes it isn’t.
Also, during the darkest days of my grief, all I could think about were people like Jenny, who lost her daughter and someone like my soul sister, who lost her amazing sister, and I couldn’t even begin to grasp what they must have felt after they suffered the loss of their loved ones. I mean, if mine hurt as bad as mine did, what did their loss feel like? I could not comprehend.
Also, in the weeks and months following their deaths, I would read blogs and I would see that someone had written about us and what had happened, which did not bother me at all. What bothered me was when people would leave comments to those posts saying something like "Oh, I went to her blog and it was just too sad, I can’t read it anymore. "
Ouch.
My sorrow is too hard for someone else to read. Can you imagine living it? I can’t imagine not reading about someone who NEEDS people, support and love, someone who is going through something so difficult because it’s too difficult for me to just read.
I’ve learned a lot of things since traveling down this long, heartbreaking road, but the most important things I have learned is that no two people grieve the same, you never know what someone else is going through, so give strangers a break and you can never give someone too much love and support.
I have learned these lessons the hard way, but I have learned them, nonetheless. And for that, I am grateful.
I will carry these lessons and my boys with me forever. But most importantly, I’ll remember that where I’m at is exactly where I’m supposed to be.
September 3rd, 2008 at 4:25 pm
People can be really horrible sometimes. It’s none of their business how long it takes you to grieve. I honestly can ‘t even begin to imagine how hard it would be to lose a child. I think you’re doing tremendously!
September 3rd, 2008 at 4:59 pm
A few weeks back I asked my therapist about you… she said to look into S.T.U.G or Sudden Temporary Upsurges of Grief. I think you will be comforted by this theory that you can go long “happy” stretched of time but then become so thunderstruck by these emotions of grief that it feel as if their death took place yesterday, not months ago.
You are so very right in celebrating Ariel & Racecar while honoring the profound loss you and your whole family suffered. I found your blog right as all this was happening. I wept for you as I have for the Smith’s (http://audreycaroline.blogspot.com/) and their extended family (http://thelukesponbergfoundation.blogspot.com/ and http://www.mycharmingkids.net/) and too I have prayed for the pain your family’s to be less with the passing of time.
I admit, I have NEVER had a loss even CLOSE to this… my dog was hit by a car and dried a few years back, but this is trivial compared to your grief. Please know there will always be people who want happy kid stories and tire of honest real emotions. You can trust that there are readers, like me, who long to hear you pain, who pray that you will continue to feel safe in you blog to share all that is on your heart.
Keep doing what you are doing and remember you ARE loved.
Barbara
September 3rd, 2008 at 5:31 pm
Beth, you continue to amaze me. And I know why your soul sister is your soul sister. She’s a keeper, that’s for sure.
Steph
September 3rd, 2008 at 6:08 pm
Beth,
Thank you for blogging and sharing your feeling and your soul sister is very very right. Where you are in your grief is exactly where you should be. I lost a little boy to a failed adoption, he is still alive, but not with me…the hope of that little one lost to me was huge grief to me…Lots of people never understood my grief but it was not for them to understand. After the first time I stopped by and read your blog…I cried tears for you and yours and I have not stopped praying for you guys as well. Prayers for peace, process and joy to return to you. And don’t dwell on the negative!
Peace and Love,
Nili
September 3rd, 2008 at 6:37 pm
You ARE right where you are supposed to be, and anyone who expects you to be anywhere else has not been through a loss.
I had never been through any great loss before I had my miscarriage. I had never been through the grieving process, so I had no idea if I was where I was supposed to be or not. All I knew is that at first I cried. Constantly. Day and night. After a while I realized that I was only crying during the day. Some time later, I realized that I only cried once or twice a day, then once a day, then every few days. Eventually I got to the point where about once a week I could feel the sadness building and I knew that I was going to need to shut myself away and have a good long melt-down pretty soon. Time has passed, and while I still remember, and will always remember, I don’t cry any more.
In my eyes, you are right where you are supposed to be. I don’t know what your exact time-line should be, because I think it is different for everyone. What I do know though is that I can tell from your blog posts that you are where you need to be. Your joy seems to be there more often….your sadness a little less each day. Don’t let any one tell you that by such-and-such a day you should be over the grief. You will get there when you get there, and in your own way and time.
I wish you a day with more joy than the one before,
Kira
September 3rd, 2008 at 6:47 pm
There will always be insensitive people but don’t worry about them…God will deal with them.
*hugs*
September 3rd, 2008 at 6:51 pm
I think it is amazing that you continue to share your story. I enjoy reading your blog, no matter if it is a happy day, sad day, or a just plain bitchy day. You know why? Because that is life. It is REAL. All those emotions make you who you are, and no one should tell you how you should be feeling… especially concerning the loss of your boys.
I shed many tears while I followed the Scott’s story as well. I find you and Jenny both amazing women and will forever admire your strength.
Melissa
September 3rd, 2008 at 6:52 pm
I have more experience in being a friend to someone who’s lost a child. 6 in this year alone. Every time I feel like less than I should be for them. Wanting to relieve their grief or wanting to know the right thing to say doesnt help them. I’ve learned that the most important thing for me as a friend is just continuing to love them through the long road to healing, listening to anything and everything they need to share, crying each tear with them.
I am so glad to know that you are still seeking and finding the joy. I know you’ll always miss the children that you held in your womb and heart, if not in your arms. I ache to think of your loss and you are in my prayers.
September 3rd, 2008 at 7:04 pm
Beth,
You are right that your grief is your own. I know it is sometimes impossible to not worry about what other people think, but that is their problem and I doubt they have ever lived through the grief you are living through. Your story is difficult to read, as Jenny’s was because it deals with issues that so many of us do try to avoid but reading it can be nothing compared to living it. I too sobbed and sobbed for baby Allie. I was on a babycenter board with Jenny throughout our pregnancies and can still remember reading Allie’s birth story. I couldn’t stop reading it even though it was hard because I felt like if Jenny had something she needed to share then it was something we needed to read. I found you right after you lost Jake and James and I cried for you too and often feel touched deeply by your grief and saddness. However, I continue to be inspired by both you and Jenny and am constantly impressed with the courage and strength you both posses. I am deeply sorry for your pain but I am thankful you are able to write about it and allow many of us to learn and grow from what you have to share
September 3rd, 2008 at 7:44 pm
You always have a way with words - so poignant and eloquent. You are very admirable for who you are and what you’ve been through and I am so glad to have someone as awesome as you in my life. Hugs to you!
September 3rd, 2008 at 8:55 pm
I learn something about myself & other people everytime I read your blog. I hate that you’ve had to go through losing Jake & James, but what your loss has taught me is indescribable. No matter if you’re happy or sad, thank you for sharing your thoughts with us.
September 3rd, 2008 at 9:27 pm
Beautifully written. You may have outdone yourself here. I can never imagine thinking “it’s too sad” … most of us hang on to hear you write about it. And somehow, by reading, we support you. If all of your readers could be in one room, you’d be amazed at the support, wouldn’t you? And your soul-sister is right … you are right where you are supposed to be. You’re getting better all the time. I can almost hear your heart healing.
September 3rd, 2008 at 11:34 pm
Beth - I too read Jenny’s words from the beginning and I cried and sobbed sometimes because I just couldn’t imagine. It was too hard to try and understand - because I couldn’t. I have never lived through that, and I pray that I never do. I did have late 1st trimester miscarriages, so I feel I understand to a degree the sense of loss a person can feel - but I don’t pretend to understand what you or she or any other mother/father goes through in a situation like this.
It is so true that you grieve how you need to grieve. I try and hand out support to those who may need it, because I felt so alone during my grief, I don’t want others to feel that aloneness.
This post has touched me deeply, as have many other you have written. I try and comment more often than not because that is what you have said you need. Even if it is from a faceless person out there in the internets.
Please know that so many care and support you as you heal and cope and keep living. We know how important it is to let it out.
September 4th, 2008 at 7:12 am
[...] child to cancer. The other was from a mother who lost two twin sons before birth and how she was sharing her grief with a mother who lost a daughter to [...]
September 4th, 2008 at 7:38 am
If you ever feel like you can’t blog about your grief any more because you think readers are thinking you should be over it by now, just remember there are a whole lot of us who understand and will support you through it. No matter how long it takes… we’ll be here to help you.
Hugs,
~ FC
September 4th, 2008 at 8:14 am
You amaze me every day. I hope you realize how much you mean to people…even the people that don’t have the strength to grieve with you.
Long distance hugs to you today.
September 4th, 2008 at 8:32 am
I love what you’ve written..
September 4th, 2008 at 9:19 am
Hi Beth
I completely agree with you that you are exactly where you are supposed to be in your grief. I wish I could bring more comfort to you. Please know that I continue to pray for you as you journey through this tough, tough road.
Much love to you…..
September 4th, 2008 at 10:27 am
I am a theatre professor at a college in Colorado. I’ve been reading your blog since you lost James and Jake (don’t remember which other blogger steered me towards your site but I’m glad that they did). I have never once thought that you need to get over it… the pain inside doesn’t go away. I don’t think a great loss like yours ever goes away, it simply changes shape.
My univeristy is producing a play this fall called “Rabbit Hole.” It won the Pulitzer Prize a few years back. It’s about a couple and their relationship after their son is accidentally struck and killed by a car. The play focuses on how different people experience grief differently and how hard that can be on relationships. It also is a beautiful statement about accidents, about how we seek to place blame and about how ultimately we can’t. I have not yet been able to read the play without crying (luckily I am the costume designer, so my time with the play is not as great as the actors or instructor who is directing it). I am quite certain that the performances are going to be moving and are hopefully going to elicit responses in our audience that mirror many of your comments in this post. I am even going to give your blog address to the student who is playing the mother, because I think some of your posts would really help her understand good days, bad days, and the loneliness that goes with loss.
Not sure where I was going with this comment… but I wanted to let you know that most of us readers don’t think you’re “out of line” with your grief. Just the opposite in fact… we are grateful for your honesty.
September 4th, 2008 at 10:45 am
Your strength and wisdom come from a great fountain within you… and this is an inspiration to all who know you. You may never know just how much you have given to the universe, of yourself and of your children. You are a gift… Love, Sharon
September 4th, 2008 at 11:35 am
You continue to inspire and amaze me. Yes, people can be awful sometimes, and very very selfish. Until someone walks in your shoes, or lives one day of your life they have no right to judge you on how you grieve or how long it takes for you to be “over it”. As a mother, and as someone that has had a miscarriage, I don’t think you ever really get over it. You learn how to deal, and it hurts less and less as time goes on, but it’s alway with you. Grief changes you, but its up to you whether those changes are good or bad. Maybe this will sound rude, and I don’t really mean for it to, but don’t worry about those people that can’t read your blog because it’s too sad. They aren’t the kind of people that you need. I have followed your blog for a little while, and very seldom comment, but I think you should be so proud of yourself. It takes alot to put yourself out there for the all the world to see. You and your family are still in my prayers…. God Bless You!!!
September 4th, 2008 at 12:40 pm
I think many others of us have learned your lessons right alongside you and while we can’t fully experience the depth of your grief or the pain you’ve felt and continue to feel, we do in some ways wish to own that grief with you — to take some of it off of you, even for a minute, and to stand beside you in solidarity. I have to admit there are some cases of injustice, immeasurable pain, suffering and despair that I feel forced to avoid listening to and reading, for they are not mine to own along with the mothers, wives, or children suffering. Yours I will always feel belongs in large part to my own heart, because of who you are, who James and Jake are, and how you have always so very graciously and gracefully offered your heart to me in joy AND sorrow. We are bound. It’s that simple.
xoxo-
m
September 4th, 2008 at 12:55 pm
Oh Beth…you have me crying again. That was so beautifully put. I will never stop reading your blog no matter how sad it is. You have taught me that I shouldn’t take things for granted. I think it is amazing that through your grief you were still able to teach someone something. You are an amazing woman. I am happy for you when you have a happy day and I am sad for you when you have a sad day. But I don’t expect you to be “over it”. How can someone get over something like that. It may get easier…but someone will never get over it. How can people expect someone to get over it. They are just blind to what is real and don’t confront death as well as you have. I am proud of you!
September 8th, 2008 at 8:45 pm
i most connected to you in your post where you shared how we don’t know everyone’s story. since a very young age, i’ve been a people watcher and always wondered about them…who they love, their embarassing secrets, their hidden heartaches. i absolutely believe that we can never fully know another person’s story and should give them the benefit of the doubt.
i still ache for your sweet james and jake, but am so thankful that you share a little part of your story. as a pediatric nurse, i’ve been on duty when one sweet 3 year old died in ER. i can honestly say that i think of you and that mom at least once a day. i pray for you both. you and that mom are the ones that have made ME a better mom….made me more appreciative….made me more aware. thank you.
September 26th, 2008 at 1:51 pm
I read your sad posts because that is how I can honor your grief and your boys. And damn straight it makes me a better mom. Thank you.
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