Today you should have been 28 months..
Where Do I begin?
I was always under the strange illusion that once our rainbow had arrived, as time progressed forward, that although Melody was missing, I would return to normal. The person I was before Melody was born.
I could return to my old job, the old giggles, even the old friends.
The old me, because time is a healer, a rainbow makes life perfect again.
It is a strange thing having a rainbow baby close to your ‘lost’ baby, we should have had two toddlers in the house, and some days I forget that rainbow is only 15 months and not 2.
I’ve searched for a part of me that is lost, the part I used to know well.
Warmth, the caring isn’t as predominant any more…
Lost, to the point of no return.
Watching helplessly as your child loses their fight does that to you.
Knowing that there is something not quite right with the world, that not only can you not protect your children from death, but protect your living children from the awful truth.
Children die. To have them talk and touch their sister, to be told she was coming home one day to the next she had died. No heaven, no hell.
All hope shattered.
“At least we have other children” Is comfort for nothing.
Why us? Why them?
Time, I’m not for one to believe, that time heals all wounds.
Time has made it hard to comprehend that we’ve moved away from her, a year or so lost in tremendously dark days. The further away in time we go the more I feel she’s fast becoming a distant memory, a memory that in this point in time, I’m finding hard to keep alive.
Nobody wants to hear of the lost girl all the time.
Those who have no way of understanding, wondering why I am STILL saying her name.
I will say I have begun to find a slightly comfortable way to where this new skin.
It does dig in and pinch a little at times, but with a pulling and tugging, it fits reasonably well again.
The imperfections make it more accustomed to me.
There are certainly days when it becomes nothing but unbearable to wear, but these days are few and far between.
The smiles certainly doesn’t mean I am over her or forgotten her, just adjusted the skin a bit, so as not to feel so heavy.
I completed the 100 happy days challenge in Melody’s memory, beginning on her 2nd birthday it was something that has helped, with February through to May being terribly exhausting.
So right where I am, I’m still unsure of who I am, I know I am not the same.
I’m not the same as normal parents, but that I can live with.
I miss her, I miss her so much, she may have only been here for 5 weeks,
She was our beautiful daughter.
I am a lot more sensitive, and take a lot more things to heart which I am trying to work on.
At times I do dislike who I have become. But the people around me, who genuinely love me understands this.
I’ve learned to smile and not feel as guilty about it anymore.
Being a bereaved parent isn’t about being brave, strong or amazing.
It’s learning to live, to breathe without it hurting so much,
Simply because I have no choice.
Miss you Melody
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
You can read Julz’s post from 2013 here: