It’s been one month since our little one died.
One month of mourning.
One month of getting up out of bed and doing what needs to be done.
One month of crying every day.
One month of recovering from surgery.
One month of letting go.
But, we are moving forward. I’m getting accustomed to my constant companion, grief.
Two years ago, I met a lady who told me the story of their son, Christopher, who was born still. She told me how her community helped to carry her grief. As she told me the story, I remember thinking that I was amazed she could tell it. I was crying, thinking of what I would have felt in her place. I received a letter from her last week and she told me that even after ten years, there are still times she is overwhelmed by grief.
And I was relieved. This pain is my reminder that Hazel was real, that she was here, that she was truly my daughter. I was relieved to know that I will still carry Hazel’s pain ten years from now, but that I will also be able to function normally. I will not be completely devastated by her death. I will be changed, but not ruined.