I think I tricked myself into feeling strong at the start of this.
Today marks two weeks since you left me and your swaddle stopped smelling like you today. It feels like another piece of you is gone. I don't feel strong anymore. I feel heartbroken and sad and angry... and grief has overwhelmed me these past two days.
Even though I held your body, tried to bring you back to life, cried over you... a piece of me still just felt like you were just temporarily gone; away on a trip or something. Which is just deranged because I know you're not. I was your food source. Your source of comfort and peace. You wouldn't be anywhere but with me for more than just a few hours. Again, foolish because I know for a fact that your little body lies in the ground and you're not coming back. Devastated doesnt even begin to describe what I'm feeling. It seems silly to even say those words because I think there's a lot of us devastated, but as your mom... it's just different. You were mine. I was supposed to keep you safe and I feel like I failed. Everyone says to not feel guilty or to think it was my fault, but how am I not supposed to? I know these things "happen", but I don't want you to be a statistic. You're more than that and I feel like I should have done more to prevent it, even if that wasn't possible.
What may be harder is we will never really "know" what happened. This really (to put it lightly + quite frank) fucking sucks.
People tell me I don't have to be strong... I know they're right but it just seems like if I am, dealing with your loss will be "easier." I don't know if in the beginning I was just trying to put on a brave face or if my mind was trying to literally seperate reality and fiction but it's like a flip has switched these past two days and it's been anything but easy. I'm not joking: some of those first days I felt like this was all a dream. My days felt "okay" and nights hard but I still just thought you would pop up I guess? Caused by pure shock, maybe. My mind + body feel traumatized... I barely just finished healing from your birth and now I have to deal with your death. This just really doesn't seem fair. It's not about me, though. It's about you not being with me anymore: I would take that pain a million times over if it meant you were here.
More blabber here today but an update to say the least. I hope I look back on this in due time, and feel like I've overcome this grief mountain that has suddenly appeared. I know I'll never get over losing you, but hopefully learn how to live without you... which doesn't even seem possible. Your 8 weeks on earth followed by your death has changed more in me than any other experience I've had in my lifetime. In the meantime, I'll keep dealing with grief my way and keep pretending I'm tough, even when I feel like I'm not because it seems like it maybe helps? Writing this down has alleviated some tension and has actually made me feel a little stronger (and even if it didn't, I'm going to pretend it did) I think? You taught me the ability to be strong at the very start of your life more than anything or anyone ever has. I pray I can remember that strength as I learn to live life without you.
As someone who knows this all too well once told me, I "just need to breathe because right now that is enough."
I'm going to take today as it is and know that it's okay if all I do today is hug big brother Beau and your daddy tight... and just breathe. We will make it through this. I don't know how but we will. I love you and miss you more than you know, Knox Leroy. My sweet boy. My sweet angel.
Comments