Time Plods Carelessly Forward: 10 Months Later

The leaves are turning on Anya's tree.
Soon, it too will be bare.

For 10 months I have sat in the same spot, writing about Anya. The oak tree in our front yard has gone from bare, to budding, to vibrant green... and this morning, a beautiful golden-yellow.

The tree reminds me of life's wonder and beauty... and of the passing of time. In a few weeks, the tree will be bare.

10 months is a long time. Anya and I have now been apart longer than we were together. I am just starting to realize I will never see my daughter again.

I struggle with expectations of where I should be in my journey of grief...

In the weeks after Anya died, I scheduled yoga classes, coffee with friends and visits to my mom's place in the country. I set aside time to grieve and heal.

10 months later, the focus of my life has shifted. I am back at work, a job I love. Another baby is on the way, and I rejoice at flutters and kicks. I am invested in life.

This has been healing, but it has also slowed my journey through grief...

After a busy day at work or when I'm overwhelmed with worry for baby #2, I am completely enraptured in the present. I think this is a good thing. Yet in such a flurry of motion, thoughts of Anya get buried deep within.

Then I stop. Thoughts of Anya bubble up... and my instinct of self-preservation pushes them back down. I think I have spent the better part of the past four months, pushing away the hurt of losing Anya.

Pain and sadness are so much harder to bear after a taste of happiness.

Last weekend we planted bulbs at Anya's grave.
In spring, life will bloom here.

Anyone who has taken an intro course in psychology can tell you burying your feelings is not a good coping mechanism. Eventually, you can't hold them in anymore...

When the wave of grief hit me again, it completely drained my energy. For two weeks, going to work was all I could manage. I wouldn't have eaten anything but cereal and takeout if not for Alex and a close friend of mine.

I couldn't take care of myself, and my feeling of self-worth took a hard hit. 10 months later, I had expected more of myself.

Today, I try to give myself time and space to feel... to heal. It's a struggle. It hurts so much to let the loss and the pain in. But as someone once told me, the only way out is through.