Grief is a very unique and personal thing. It’s different for everyone. I’m not sure how I got to the point I am now. The place where I seem happy, like I’ve moved on. I’m not sure how or why I’m able to be a light to others in their darkness.
Sometimes, I find myself on the edge of grief. I wonder when the other shoe will drop. When I will finally break. When my life will all come crashing down and I’ll fall apart because I lost my son.
I was sad when it happened. Lost. I cried. I know I experienced some form of grief. But I also had two other babies in the NICU that I had to worry about and I couldn’t let my grief consume me. So I moved forward. I put on a brave face, held on to my faith, and even started helping others who were dealing with fresher grief than mine.
I approached the one year anniversary of their birth, and then his death, with trepidation. I was in grief groups; I’d been warned about what was coming. But the dates passed and all I felt was a calmness and peace.
I wondered as I watched the women around me dealing with their own grief if I had somehow not loved my son as much as they loved their child. I mean, these women were leveled by their grief. It consumed them. I felt extreme guilt over this. Was I normal?
I didn’t talk about him everyday or cry anymore or have bad days when something triggered a memory. In fact, I actively celebrated his short life, wrote about the blessings that had come out of losing him, and made it my purpose to use our loss to help others.
I must be a bad mom. I must be a horrible, uncaring person. I must not have loved him. How could I not be missing him in the deep, painful way that these other women were missing their children?
On my worst days, the extent of my worse was that I saw a set of triplets that were also two boys and a girl and I saw what was missing in my set of only two survivors. Or someone called them twins and it stung a little. But even on these days, I was thankful to remember him and usually saw the opportunity to raise awareness about loss.
I don’t post in a lot of loss forums because I fear I’ll be judged for being heartless or uncaring. I will occasionally say something to help someone in pain as a way to lift them up, but this is the first time I’ve put it out there that I feel like an outsider in these groups. But I do. And I wonder if I’m the only one that feels this way.
Grief is present in my life. I’ll never get over losing Carter. He’ll always be a part of me and losing him did change me.
But for the better. I know I’ve been given a gift. The gift to use this awful thing, this thing that nobody wants to talk about, and help others. Those that are going through it, but also those who aren’t. They need help too, so they can understand those that are.
I’ve decided to be happy because it is good for my health. ~Voltaire
Here’s something beautiful I feel like someone out there needs to hear…
I used to think that God took Carter because he thought I couldn’t handle three babies at once. That I wasn’t cut out to be a mom of triplets. That he saw something in me that wasn’t good enough…
BUT…
I now realize that God took Carter because he knew I could handle it. That I’d use Carter’s loss for good. That he saw something in me that would be able to reach out to people and share my experience so that they wouldn’t be alone.
That’s a powerful thing. And that’s what keeps me from falling off the edge.
What about you? Have you ever grieved something so much but still felt a peace? Did you feel guilty because of it? Please tell me I’m not alone…
See more faith-filled posts at Missional Women, where I’m linked up this week.
wow what a great post! love it
Angela, you are such an amazing momma and your story is such an inspiration!
Thank you Taylor! I try to use my story to help others, and that’s why I write from my heart about these things… 🙂
This is really inspiring. Thank you for sharing.
Angela, beautifully written! I have come to realize that even though no two losses are the same and we all grieve differently…we are never alone, because a loss is a loss no matter how small.
Thank you Kris! I agree completely. And I know too that everyone’s experience is unique to them, even if we’ve all experienced the same overall thing.
Angela, you are not alone!
I join you in feeling odd about the depths and breadths of my personal grief. For me, I sometimes felt that maybe because I’d experienced it so many times I was just accustomed to it or something. But now, many years later, I’ve come to realize that it’s really due to my faith that I am more at peace with the deaths of my children. It’s because I so completely trust that my Creator has a much better idea of all aspects of life & death than I myself do.
Years ago when I began gathering by email a tiny group of ‘loss moms’ dealing with raising an incomplete set of multiples while managing their personal grief over the loss of one of more of that set I met many parents who were so overcome with grief they really had trouble focusing on the needs of the other co-multiples who were depending upon them. Many times it made me wonder why I seemed so different. Loss In Multiple Birth Outreach is still ongoing support for these families. It’s listed in yahoogroups for anyone that wishes to have a quiet, safe, supportive place to talk about their loss(es), their survivor(s), all those insensitive comments from others and so on. We have branched out with groups for families who lost all of their set(s) of multiples and for families who are trying to have more children after these tragic events. Sadly, the need continues and the numbers grow.
Over the years and after meeting literally hundreds of other parents sharing this type of loss I’ve learned that how any individual manages grief and all it’s many facets is absolutely a unique process. Spouses will differ; siblings will differ; best friends will differ; no two parents, moms or dads, will process the loss of a child (or the multiple losses) in the same way and we – as a whole, humankind in general – need to come to terms with that, accept it, and help others to do the same!
Our journey is our own but we needn’t travel it alone. {{{gentle hugs}}}
Thank you, Andee! I always wondered if I was alone, but what I’m realizing is that it’s not anything I’m doing differently, like not loving my son enough. It’s GOD working in me and my faith that makes me more at peace. 🙂
What a wonderful post, Angela. Love your heart and love for God. I Thank God for what He had done for you in the past and is doing now in your life.
I grieved for loosing 4 of my friends and a grandma in a year! I grieved for not be able to be with them at their last minutes. I grieved. But God is always be there when I grief. He is faithful.
Thank you for sharing your story and testimony with us. Blessings to you!
Thank you Helen! I think it helps me to see God in it all – I can find the blessing and use it in a positive way. 🙂 I am sorry that you dealt with that year of loss, but I am so glad you see that God was there with you! Blessings. 🙂
Thanks for linking up Angela! We love you and how you speak God’s character through Carter’s life. xoxo Angi, Laura and the rest of MissonalWomen
Thank you Angi & Laura & MW! So glad I found your link-up – it’s awesome. And, you’re right… God is definitely at work though my angel. 🙂
You will never forget him even though others may. And how you have been changed and shaped because of him can be a beautiful blessing as you share your story just as you are doing. So many women experience loss of a baby–miscarriage, stillbirth and prematurity are all too prevalent. And unfortunately it’s often a subject that is avoided. Allowing God to use your experience to help others is an awesome way to honor his memory. God bless!
Thank you, Stephanie! I agree… it’s important to help others when we can – and this is one way I can. 🙂