Unnatural

I’m still coming to accept that the first time I held my daughter was the last and only time I held her.

THAT’S NOT HOW IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE!

The river of life naturally flows downstream…from our grandparents, to our parents, to us and on through our children.  I think of myself as being part of my parents and my children being part of me not the other way around (i.e. my parents are part of me and I am part of my children).  Don’t get me wrong!...The unbreakable connection and bond between a parent and child is there in both directions and unconditional love is woven so tight it cannot be frayed, but I guess it is the process and product of creating and growing a family that creates this feeling of a downstream current for me. 

Everything about this situation and outcome feels unnatural.  We’re not supposed to have to say goodbye to our child and feel the guttural pain that comes with that parting.  We’re supposed to learn about death and the difficult, sometimes impossible decisions that accompany it from losing grandparents, then parents hopefully after long and fulfilling lives.  I wish my son did not have to experience the extremes of losing a great-grandfather and a baby sister within the span of three months.  It’s unnatural.  Life flows downstream and any unyielding barrier that falls in its path changes the flow and course of the stream forever. 

I realize how fortunate I am to be able to say and feel that losing a child is unnatural and unexpected.  I know now more than ever that there are so many in this world that live with the expectation or knowledge that they will likely lose a child as a result of their medical, living or political conditions.  My hearts bleeds for them and for every woman who has experienced this unthinkable sadness.  I don’t care how expected or unexpected a loss like this might be, the feelings a grieving mother feels must be universal in some light.  While I HATE that my grief is shared by many other “knowing” mothers, it is comforting to know that I am not alone.  I have had friends, doctors, teachers, mothers of neighbors and strangers share with me stories of the infant losses they have experienced.  We always hug and usually cry together.  (Their tears, many years or decades later, are proof that while it gets better and is not always felt…the pain never fully goes away.)  Behind their tears I find comfort and hope in the strength I see…they made it!  They continued walking life’s path in their new shoes…putting one foot in front of the other.  While fundamentally changed they are okay.

On some days my world stops turning and on other days it seems to turn slowly but it has undoubtedly been knocked from is axis and is turning at an uncomfortable and unnatural tilt.