Right where I am 10 years later.....

The other day, while out with my family, I felt the need for a donut. Simple request. Just craved a donut, specifically a blueberry glazed. After four different stores, and a realization that they no longer carry this brand in the area, I sat in my car and screamed ,then cried. My family thought I had gone nuts which made me cry even harder. At first, I had no idea why I was crying and then it hit me. When I was pregnant with Nora, I craved, and I mean craved these delicious bites of heaven.

As I am typing this blog post, I am crying. Ten years later. A donut started the tears that won't stop. Nora's ten year birthday is next week, June 3. I am a mess. I imagine I will be a mess through the month of June at which point things will calm until the next wave of grief rushes through me.

I have come to realize this. There is no magic pill, nothing that can be done to change this. I have come a long way since 2001. Heck, I have come a long way since last year. Grief changes year to year, month to month, second to second and all it takes is one memory, one smell, one sound, or one donut to rush it back into your life.

Things were different in the beginning. I had a sucky extended family, most refused to come to the funeral. Ten years later, these people are no longer in my life. I have a better relationship with the farmer down the road than with my own father. I have been missing him so much lately but there is nothing I can do to change that. I miss my old friends but again they backed out of my life. My grief was too powerful for the normals out there.

It has been a journey with a steep learning curve. In the beginning , I wore lots of "masks." They were hot and uncomfortable. I hated to pretend, it wasn't me. I gradually started ripping them off , refusing to wear them in public. I was a person who lost a child , I was a person who lost the ability to have more, I was a person with surviving children , a husband. I was not able to handle pregnant women, newborns, commercials with newborns, shows with newborns, the list goes on. I didn't care what people thought of me. I just wanted to be real.

Than I went back to work. The mask had to come out because society couldn't handle the real me. So, off I went. One job, two jobs, three jobs- yea I had a hard time keeping the masks on. I kept encountering people who were clueless. I felt the need to educate. I needed to make sure that I did self care, take time to cry or scream. I needed to talk about my baby, my Nora, my experience. Sure I could do it online, in the safety of forums and blogs but that wasn't good enough. I wanted the world to get it. Just freaking get it. It didn't work very well.

At the five year mark, I eventually learned how to coexist in the world and share Nora. I started to pick and choose who I share Nora with. People, new friends, co-workers had to meet a special criteria. It was a protective tool I used to guard myself, my feelings from the coldness of the world. It worked. It took so much hard work, meditation, artwork, yoga, breathing.. any tool I could use to help me through this lifelong journey of grief.

Ten years. I am different. My children are different. My husband is different. Nora is a part of our lives. We don't try so hard anymore. Nora is just my third child, she lives in our hearts. We have finely developed rituals. She is remembered on each holiday, whether it be just lighting a candle, the angel tree, or her birthday party. Her name moves freely on our lips. We laugh when we remember certain pregnancy memories. We plant gardens in her name. We do acts of kindness in her name. We cry if we need to, sometimes we even throw rocks into rivers to release anger. We are in control and we know what works for us. We remember Nora however and whenever we want , in any situation.

Ten years ago I was told that my children would be messed up because I allowed them to know their full term baby sister who was born still. This year my son, 17 , spearheaded a walk for the MISS Foundation. My son and my daughter who is now 13 have helped children and parents understand loss. My son's mission in life is to help others understand how to help the bereaved. I could not be prouder. This is Nora's legacy.

As I sit here rereading this, I realize that I am all over the place. To the reader, I apologize. This blog post is very indicative of how my grief has been. There is no set timetable, no rules, no promises of things to come. It just is and I just am. June 3 will be here and I know tears will come. We have a birthday party, share steamed crabs, eat cake and let balloons go. My incredible sister in law, my mom, my cherished pre-Nora friends, my beautiful new friends, other amazing and wonderful bereaved mommies and daddies will remember, and for that I am blessed. I will go through her stuff, her few cherished mementos and hold them. I will mourn Nora..but ten years later, I know I am a better and changed person because of her. I will never forget because I will always love her.

Only time will tell what the future will bring. I am sure as I see my oldest off at graduation, watch my daughter in her prom gown, and all the other things I won't share with Nora, more tears will come. Its only natural , its part of the grieving process.

“To spare oneself from grief at all cost can be achieved only at the price of total detachment, which excludes the ability to experience happiness.”
~Erich Fromm~