Wow, two posts in the same week, I'm on a roll. Actually, I'm up early so thought I'd take advantage of some quality me time. So, the six month mark came and went. I feel a sense of relief at having survived it. It was a reflective day. I felt a lot of things. Pain, of course. I relived the day as the hours passed, through her delivery, the hours beyond, and her death. I allowed myself to feel her, hold her near my heart. We put out her things, and cradled her ashes. We put the new lock on the urn. I relived some of the 'why me' feelings, and allowed them to come.
I've been reflecting a lot on the people in my life to whom I am so grateful for their friendship and love. I'm trying to thank them in an unscripted way for their tenacity, their willingness to stand by when I have defaulted on them time and time again, in some manner. In spite of my horrifically unlucky loss, I am a lucky person for the people I am blessed to have in my life. My parents are unconditionally supportive in my endeavours, never judging or berating my choices. My friends are unwavering in their loyalty. Though I *often* forget to return phone calls, chronically forget anniversaries, birthdays etc, I am forgiven without fail. I am lucky to have not one or two, but several very close friends who I know with certainty I could fall on and be sure of being caught. I have a lot of love in my life.
I think I am trying to find a way to blend Isla's terrible fate into my life in a meaningful way, without it feeling like I'm making light of her death, or diminishing her value as a person. Through Isla, I recognize that life is so very precious, and so finite. Isla had no chance, no life to build and develop. She had no opportunity to forge deep friendships and fall in love. I have these blessings all around me and it discomforts me to think of it all falling away, or atrophying because I did not care for it all.
When I fall deeply into grief, which I still do, it is hard to maintain that optimism. Yet I am trying. I am trying to connect. Trying to build meaning in the relationships I have with the people I love. I don't know if this is part of my healing, but I feel the need to reach out, and feel love from others again, feel connected to the living world, feel alive. I realize this could be the coffee talking, or the early morning which always brings a feeling of newness and vigour. But, whatever it is, I'll take it. I like feeling hopeful. I like feeling love for Isla, in my heart, and not being overwhelmed by pain and loss and loneliness all the time. It is a good feeling, being more in control. I hate floundering about, trying to get my footing, and leaning heavily on others for stability and reassurance. That part of grief is so chaotic and unpredictable. I like feeling powerful in my own right.
I guess what it comes down to, at least for today, is that I am grateful for the love in my life. I know there are many people who do not have it, and that saddens me. Most people also haven't had their child die in their arms either, but even some of those people are alone, and that devastates me. There is sun amidst the clouds for me and I am so grateful.