Embracing the Pain

Each day brings it's own trials. I never know what to expect when I wake up in the morning. Will I be reminded suddenly of all the feelings I work so hard to control and break down in sobs? Will a friend announce a pregnancy, or birth, throwing me into a pit of despair and aching? I just don't know. Each morning I put on my face of normalcy, but every shred within me fights against the display. Nothing is OK. Nothing is right.

I miss the hope and joy. Never before have I been without both. I was so hopeful, my entire life. Now every small piece has been scattered to the wind the moment my little boy passed in my arms. I mourn it. I miss it. I miss being happy. I miss enjoying life.

No one knows me anymore. The person they knew for 25 years is gone. I feel myself so incredibly changed. Yes, some remnants remain. Yes, more will surface as the years go by and I find my purpose again, but for now, I am a stranger to myself.

People still pray for me and Jamie. We need it desperately. People try to tell us to find our comfort in God, and to look to him. What I know they don't understand is, He feels our grief just as deeply as we do.

There is no complete comfort, at this point there is very little comfort. Only distractions. We do not wish to be rid of that which makes our days so hard. Our grief is our comfort. Our sadness is our healing. I am so thankful for each stabbing pain, debilitating ache, and agonized tear. They mean that Matthew mattered. He was loved more than anyone else will ever know. His father and I feel each throb of unending love for him every moment we live, and it's because of our grief that we are able too.

It does not get easier. You learn to cope a little more each day, but it does not lessen. I've learned, I do not want it to get "better". I want to feel that intense emotion every time I think of him. I do look forward to the day it turns to different emotions, instead of just pain. Love to replace bitterness, hope to replace despair, and joy to replace sorrow.