Waves of Grief

Life is pretty crazy these days... interrupted sleep, little time to ourselves, toddler tantrums. In the midst of this exhaustion, I'm struggling to appreciate life and the little things. And I'm certain 4 years ago I vowed never to take life's treasures for granted...

I'm struggling and I'm hurting as I realize there is no formula, no series of choices that can make life exactly as I want it to be. There is not enough will power or trying that can make life perfect.

It's naive to have thought that it ever could have been perfect, I know.

When William (our rainbow baby) was born my life shifted overnight. The time I gave myself to grieve, to hope, to reflect on life, to work through tough emotions almost vanished, and my life became focused on immediate needs, survival, and love of course. William brought us so much love, so much vitality.

Grief for the loss of Anya was still present, but it became background noise as I focused on the present, and I learned to love life again. I basked on the dry beach in the ebb of the waves of grief. This is a good thing. But I invested myself so wholeheartedly in loving life that I didn't even notice I had built a dam, and grief stopped flowing.

Then something shifted, I don't know exactly when. Maybe it was when Juliette was born. I dreamed again of life with a daughter, precious dreams that had once been for Anya. Maybe it was a few months later when the aforementioned exhaustion set in. Something shifted and grief returned, less acute, but still present like a long slow wave.

Now grief takes the shape of anger and hurt as I am forced to accept the realities of life. Everyone I love will one day die. Being a parent is hard and isolating. I will never find the perfect balance between family, work and my own needs. And no matter how many kids we have, our family won't be complete.

If there is any silver lining in all of this, I think it is having a place to share these feelings, to let grief flow and to soon find the ebb of this wave.