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After writing for 14 days, I'm finding myself..

Grief writing - Entry 15

I thought I might find something new, but it's apparent that I'm still frustrated.

Mad at people. I was naive to think that the people who have loved and supported me through the years would rise up. For me.

I don't want to linger here any longer. The grief writing shines a clear floodlight. But I hope this is helping. I hope this is the last of the venting, and then I can begin to accept and put these people and thoughts behind me. I want to start fresh with the facts now. I would like to release my disappointment. Nothing will ever be rosy, regardless of the future, my first child will always have died before his birth.

But new beginnings feel sort of promising. Only we're in the middle of a pandemic and meeting new people and making new friendships isn't going to happen easily.

I'm trying to embrace the now, but in writing, I realize I'm holding on to some things from the past and the grief is ever-present.

Which is okay. I don't mind the grief so much. It helps me to articulate my emotions.

When I feel lonely, I realize it's because I'm always thinking about how life would be drastically different right now with a baby. Life SHOULD be drastically different right now with a 15-month old baby.

Nearly every single aspect of my waking life should be different right now.

This course is also making me reflect. It feels inevitable to compare grief a bit when I read from my peer's works.

I feel jealousy. They have memories. My biggest memory of my son is trauma-laden. I gave birth and he was already dead.

We didn't make many fond memories to hold onto at the hospital. There were a couple of sweet moments. Dressing him in an outfit even though he would never come home. Holding him. Trying to make hand and foot molds. Being just as awkward with a dead baby as with a living baby as first-time parents.

I wish I had a single living memory with our son outside of the hospital. Outside of the womb.

Writing has brought many of these thoughts to light. I'm grateful because the grief makes a little bit more sense now.

I can put my finger on more of the intangible pain. This is good. It hurts, but it's good.

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