Just Part of the Journey

Since coming back from Colorado, I have really had a hard time. I have been missing Micah more than I feel I should. Trying to process everything that I learned and all the "remembering" that was done while in CO. When my friends here ask how the trip was, I feel like they want me to tell them it was wonderful and that we had a great time. How can I honestly say that when it was not true. The reason for the trip was to be with my friend who has lost two boys and to meet them. And so she could meet Micah. It has effected me more than I can explain. But it was also healing. It helped to be with other mothers who have lost their babies around the same time as me. For we are in the same spot in the grieving process. They know that it is a roller coaster ride. And they understand that when you just start crying it is normal and there is nothing that needs to be said or done.

It is hard to explain to people who have not experienced. When they ask what can they do to serve us. I don't know what to say. Because what I want is for Micah to be back. I want Zane and Micah to be fighting. I want to have sleepless nights with a teething baby, I want to be teaching Zane to share with his brother, I want to be calling my friend to see how her boys are doing, I want to be crushed in our truck. But that is not going to happen. What I am doing is preparing to get a tattoo in memory of Micah, I am the only playmate for Zane from the time that David leaves till he comes home at night. I am the one who plays in the sand with Zane, who plays baseball with Zane, who paints with Zane, who is interrupted from making dinner so Zane can show me something.

In preparing for our trip to CO and for the tattoo, I pulled out Micah's book. Zane knows what the book is about, and he does not like to see it because it makes him sad. He understands that when mommy is crying it is because she is thinking of Micah. If we are outside, he will turn on "Micah's Fountain". He is very understanding and very sweet about it. But a little boy who is not even three should not have understanding like this.

I am also struggling with the fact that people tell me to trust in God and know that God's plan is best, etc. when I am having really bad days. It is not that I am not doing any of these things, but it is that something that I was going to love, cherish, hold and watch grow and fulfill dreams was riped from me without any warning. I know that I will see Micah again, but I will never see him smile at me, at daddy, at Zane, crawl, walk, talk, climb, fall, read, graduate, get married, have kids of his own, and everything else you dream for your child. I did not even get to hear him cry. It is also hard when people ask how you are doing and you can tell that they do not want to hear the truth. I feel like they see how I am doing and think that I should be over it. It is never going to go away. Yes, it MAY get easier, but as someone said it so well: it is like a tree. If let to grieve and heal in a healthy way and with treatment, there will be healing, but a scar will remain. If left without a healthy way to grieve, it will become infected and could die, or in the case of humanity, become bitter.

Some things that people can do are found here. Also, a wonderful friend posted this wonderful poem, which helps also.

Please Be Gentle
By Jill B. Englar

Please be gentle with me for I am grieving.
The sea I swim in is a lonely one
and the shore seems miles away.

Waves of despair numb my soul
as I struggle through each day.
My heart is heavy with sorrow.
I want to shout and scream
and repeatedly ask 'why?'

At times, my grief overwhelms me
and I weep bitterly,
so great is my loss.

Please don’t turn away
or tell me to move on with my life.
I must embrace my pain
before I can begin to heal.

Companion me through tears
and sit with me in loving silence.
Honor where I am in my journey,
not where you think I should be.
Listen patiently to my story,
I may need to tell it over and over again.
It’s how I begin to grasp the enormity of my loss.

Nurture me through the weeks and months ahead.

Forgive me when I seem distant and inconsolable.

A small flame still burns within my heart,
and shared memories may trigger
both laughter and tears.

I need your support and understanding.
There is no right or wrong way to grieve.
I must find my own path.
Please, will you walk beside me?

This is not to offend anyone but to educate. This is how I feel, and there is nothing wrong with it. I am healing and my grief is real and I hope that no one else every has to go through it. I may not come out and tell you, you will have to ask, but only ask if you really want to know.