I’ve taken a step back lately. A step back mentally for my weary heart and tired spirit to try to again regain some much needed strength. My grief feels different lately, almost harder to manage in a way. I’m at a loss for answers right now and time keeps slipping away from me. They say time heals all wounds, but I don’t feel as if time has healed me. Time seems ever passing. Oblivious to my feelings about it. Time simply doesn’t always feel like my friend but rather an uncontrollable enemy.
- “Time by definition is the indefinite continued progress of existence and events that occur in apparently irreversible succession from the past through the present to the future. Time is a component quantity of various measurements used to sequence events, to compare the duration of events or the intervals between them, and to quantify rates of change of quantities in material reality or in the conscious experience.”
No matter how much time continues to pass on this journey, My mind will always return to the day time stood still, the day Everlee was born. The day she lost her fight, the day I held her for the first time, never to hear her crys, never to look into her eyes.
I wondered how time was to still go on when in that moment time had stopped for me. In a way my mind seems forever trapped in that moment. The day that time would be forever changed for me. I remember every little thing. Every thing about that day. And in a way it haunts me. In a way I know it’s a precious gift also to hold dear.
I remember the time leading up to that day. Every scan, every sound of her heartbeat beating safety and soundly. That strong little heartbeat that assured me everything would be ok. That she was Ok in that moment in time. I remeber the smile we caught on the ultrasound, oh what a gift to see her smile! unknowingly it would be such a blessing, such a moment in time to hold onto, for I would never see my daughter smile again.
I remember all the tears and fears as we didn’t know what to expect when she was born. There was such a sense of wanting to protect her and keep her safe. But I felt this huge overwhelming amount of love for my little Everlee already, A ever growing bond that assured my fears, making me think everything would be ok. That whatever the future held I had trust we would all be ok. That love would surely keep us together. And that love has, just not in the way I thought back then. I had no idea that huge amount of love I had for my little Everlee was going to have to span from earth to heaven and back. It WAS there to bond us together forever, but through worlds apart.
And now here we are almost two years after that day. And time keeps going. Ever turning and changing around me. Which is In part why I have tired to take a step back. I miss Everlee like crazy. My broken heart hurts, my weary soul can’t seem to not search for the missing almost two year old in our life that should be here. My mind still can’t fathom the fact I will never see her again in this lifetime. She was so perfect, she was everything we ever wanted to complete our family and why I can’t have her I’ll never fully understand. My heart still holds so much love that it physically hurts as it has no place to go. I wanted to give it all to her. I’m still lost without her, my empty arms still ache. My grief and heartache still feels very raw and untended too, feeling as if I’ll never heal from this loss. That the pain is and will be never ending.
As time goes on my other children keep growing, I signed my little Alice up for preschool this upcoming fall. That hit me harder than I ever thought. Alice has been my one to hold through it all, keep close, and shower with every hug and kiss Everlee should have gotten. My little earthly angel to get me up every day and release a hidden smile out of her momma. When I stopped to think about it, the one year of preschool she would have and then it would be off to kindergarten, I panicked. I didn’t understand how my baby was gone. I had already lost my little Everlee and just by time continuing I felt as if I was loosing another.
Grief has a way of making me feel isolated and absent from the current world. Standing still while time goes on. There are situations and functions I now decline and miss Because my fragile heart can not take. Relationships are lost or put on hold because the amount of energy it takes, or situations it puts me in. Small tasks become energy suckers, you begin to prioritize what is important to put your energy into. You become forgetful, absentminded and it’s all because time stopped that day. You replay every little thing on repeat whether you want to or not. That day and the moments leading up to it will affect so many areas in your life from that day forward.
There are times I retreat, to save myself from the storm of grief. Here in the Midwest we have tornados, they come in suddenly sometimes without much warning and the safest place to be is in a basement in your home. You normally have everything you need to wait out the storm feeling safe and sometimes forgetting what is going on above ground and outside. After the storm is passed you ascend the stairs to face reality, the debris and devastation that went on.
That is the best way I can explain to you how one retreats in grief. Finding a safe place in a way under the surface. Distracting yourself with be busy or loosing yourself in a book, tv show. Pushing every painful emotion, every frantic feeling, every darkening mood aside. But you can only stay there for so long disconnected from reality, pushing aside the questions your mind has, the fear, the heartache. But the pain of loss never goes away. It never will. Time goes on while you retreat. Alice grew up in there. And now I feel as though I’ve been absent the past two years tending to my broken heart. Adding more guilt onto my broken heart.
With the pain of infertitly waging heavy on my heart right now, I find dealing with my grief for Everlee evener harder. After all this time I’m more tired than ever. More broken than ever. Infertitly has broken me more after already trying to come back from those depths of despair. It has added more pain and loss on something that was already earth shattering to my very existence. When Jeremy and I set out on this journey a year ago, I was excited and eager to welcome a rainbow baby into our family. It took a lot of emotional preparation and healing to get to that point because in the beginning I only wanted Everlee. But I did get to a good place I was out of my basement ready to find healing on a new journey. How I had no idea the continuing pain that would follow.
Last month was the first month we actively had treatment for our infertitly finally. I promised myself I wouldn’t hope, I promised myself I wasn’t going to get excited for nothing. And I didn’t think I did but subconsciously I must have. Because here was another negative, after a million this past year, it sent me crumpling. Everything I had tried to bury inside came out, I was gasping for air, the flood of tears swallowing me. I was crushed, here we were again after painful procedures and still no postive results. but honestly my mind when right back to remembering and relating this with the crushing pain of that one day. I felt like I was reliving it all over again. I remembered every little thing all over, cradling Everlee for the first time, begging to hear her cries. Falling so utterly completely in love with her and realizing I would not be able to hold her forever even though I wanted to. I thought about how I held her and looked at her for hours, how I burned every little detail of her in my mind. She was perfect. So perfect. I felt the physical pain again of walking out of that hospital with out her. Of returning home without her. My empty arms.
No matter how much time passes and how much little I try to hope anymore every failed month through this infertitly journey brings me back. To my empty arms. Everything I’m missing with Everlee. Everything I’m not sure I’ll ever get again. everything I feel I have missed these pasts two years with Alice because I was just surviving through it all maybe retreating through some storms.
Time is a cruel enemy sometimes. I haven’t gotten a grasp on it yet still after that day. It hasn’t been healing. It hasn’t brought me closer to holding a rainbow baby in my arms. Time is the “irreversible succession from the past through the present to the future.” Time will keep going. Yet I’m here I am feeling like I still stand still from that day.
This picture was a gift, I never thought I would receive. A “new” picture. Everlee’s grandma sent this to me a couple months ago. A picture I had never seen, a moment where I was on the bed watching grandma hold her ,my heart breaking as I watched Everlee would miss out on the amazing love I knew her Grandma had to give to her. I love her little hands curled up in this picture. I’ve kept this picture to myself lately wanting to take in every new detail. A new picture from that very day. Another precious moment in time to hold onto.
I know one day I will finally feel as though I’m moving in time again. I know there will come a time I might not have to retreat anymore. But right now in this broken state I’m trying hard to just be present in the day I was given, especially with Alice for time goes by to quickly. Time is precious and something you’ll never get to go back to. Time is a gift I will never take for granted again. I’m forever thankful for the time I was given with Everlee. She has taught me so much about how precious time is. One day I hope to only carry the joy from that day, but right now the pain follows me and haunts me. I know it’s time to yet again start cleaning up the debris from the last storm, leaning my weary heart and soul on God to lead me and shelter me.
- “You are my hiding place; you will protect me from trouble and surround me with songs of deliverance.”
- Psalm 32:7