Springtime Sorrows

Spring is here and I think I am having an emotional breakdown. My mind keeps drifting back to a year ago when I was excitedly awaiting the birth of my third son. With every day that passes it sinks in deeper that he’s never coming home.

It’s starting to hit me that I will deal with his death my entire life. It’s not just something that’s going to fade away.

Every time I see a pregnant woman I am going to worry a little for her baby’s well-being as well as envy her for the life she carries. When I see a tiny, newborn baby — alive and well — I’ll wonder what it would have been like to hold a healthy, happy Luca. And when I see a family with three or more kids in tow, I’ll think of what life would have been like with my third.

I feel stressed, nervous, anxious and physically ill when I remember how my perfect world turned to pure hell within a day’s time. I went from hearing my baby’s heartbeat at a routine doctor’s check up to delivering him stillborn within 24 short hours.

This spring is going to be a rough one. Ironically it’s the same time of year associated with new life and rebirth.

But I realize it’s all right if it’s rough. I need time to suffer through my sorrows. I’ve been through a tragic event that will forever change me and my outlook on life.

I saw an interview last week of a supermodel that survived the 2004 Tsunami in Indonesia. She survived but her boyfriend did not. A reporter asked her how long it takes to recover from an event like that. Her reply: You never fully recover.

I can relate to her grief. No, I didn’t experience a natural catastrophe of quite the same magnitude. But I did lose someone very close to me in a cruel and tragic way.
And I think she’s right. You never fully recover from something like that. Maybe you refer to it less frequently and tear up half as often, but the truth is, you have just learned how to better to conceal your broken heart.

A lot of times when interacting with others who have been through hard times, I think it makes all of us feel better to hear people say they have “recovered” from their tragedies. But I’m not sure we can ever fully recover. At least not me. Not yet.

%d bloggers like this: