Coral: Right Where I Am 2016: 2 years 4 months 23 days

It’s been too long going in life broken-hearted. Learning to live with a part of me missing is the most difficult thing I have faced in my existence. I feel conflicted by it because there’s some sort of gratefulness despite the tragedy. You see, before I couldn’t bear when others called me strong. Now I understand why others see me as such. This challenge that life threw at me has taught me to face the impossible. How can you live despite having a loss so big that defines you? I’m privilege to have the answer. Even though I wish I could go back in time to change the outcome, the lesson learned is invaluable.

My love for Luna continues growing with time. I learned that she doesn't have to be physically here for me to love her. I’m fortunate to understand this, because the meaning of love has been forever redefined. It means an essence so powerful and strong that even death can’t break it. I guess my eyes are now open to see what’s in front of me, understanding God’s love.

Two years and a half of constant change; because relationships, dreams and goals were somehow shaped the day she died. Now I only care about being true to myself and live freely. I’m more aware now of the things I can control to give meaning to my life. I quit my profession knowing the passion for it was never there. I find myself cutting all negative relationships to build a better future with those who truly care while I continue educating others about seeing death as a natural part of life. At times, I forget that I am a mother, there’s no vivid reminder except for the stretch marks marked on my body. This is the part that truly scares me, not feeling connected to motherhood and waking up one day without thinking of her. Even though she is always in my mind and not a day goes by without me missing her.

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You can read Coral’s previous posts here:

Right Where I Am 2015: 11 months 2 weeks 6 days
Right Where I Am 2014: 4 months 28 days

Coral: Right Where I Am 2015: 11 months 2 weeks 6 days

As the anniversary of her birthday approaches I feel the anxiety creeping back. I can’t concentrate or focus and have plenty of unfinished tasks. I also went back to crying at night, at least not as before, but the tears still come down. If I stay home during the entire day I start replaying in my head what a lonely year this have been. Our dreams as family, friendships, support, that motherly feeling, the depression, even my job… all gone. Not that I blame her. I will never blame her. Grief is just complicated, too complicated for people to understand.

I feel flattered that some remember. The thoughtful suggestions and ideas on how to celebrate her birthday really surprised me. But am I ready to “celebrate” her birthday, knowing that she died on the same day?

I wish to be strong enough, as others keep on recalling, to prepare and organize something special. I just can’t wrap my head around it… maybe I’m not ready yet. Who is ready for that? Especially after seeing friends and colleagues celebrate their baby’s firsts? Is just a little too much for me at this time. It doesn’t mean that I’m not grateful or that I don’t acknowledge her life. It doesn’t mean that we don’t love her. We will always love her. But we can’t celebrate a birthday, just an anniversary of the happiest and saddest day of my life.

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You can read Coral’s previous post here:

Right Where I Am 2014: 4 months 28 days

Coral: Right Where I Am 2014: 4 months 28 days

I feel that I’m being forced to live. Everything surrounding me keeps on moving like nothing happened. We have returned to work, we socialise with friends and follow our normal routine prior the baby. We continue enjoying our company like nobody is missing. I can no longer describe my feelings exactly, but feeling NUMB gets close to it.

Our baby was born on February 26 this year. She never made it home, passing quickly after birth. I never got to hold her. The only memory that I have of her, alive, is hearing her crying after giving birth to her. I got to kiss her hello and goodbye at the same time without knowing. She was perfect. What makes more difficult to understand the reasons of her passing. The memories of the nurse coming to the room with teary eyes prompting my husband and I to go down to the NICU, after only 30 minutes of bringing my little girl into the world, haunts me everyday. The only pictures that we carry are of a baby that was not alive. The only time spent with our daughter was the time when her heart stopped beating. Unfortunately those memories replace the only good memory that I have of her, alive.

I can only think about not having a baby to hold, a reason to wake up everyday. I feel lost and lonely. Although my husband is supportive I still feel empty. Nobody talks about her… Why is so difficult to talk about my baby? It’s hard to be surrounded by people that put on an act to avoid conversations. It's tough to see how others decide to walk the other way due to not knowing what to say. It is harsh to be THAT girl, the one who lost a baby. Coping with grief is hard enough without worrying about these kind of things. But somehow those are things that I keep on experiencing and the things that I have to deal with, besides my grief. I only wish people can understand how to be gentle and ignoring the fact that my baby died is not being gentle.

4 months and 28 days after my loss feels like the very first day. The NUMBNESS of not feeling but yet, living with a roller coaster of emotions only makes me think that IT DOESN’T GET BETTER. Some days I’m sad, some days I’m mad. Every end of the month I can’t even stand myself. Anger… let’s not talk about it. Confusion is something that I learned to live with. Pretending to be happy gets easier but on the inside I now I’m lying to myself. I have mastered the answer to everyone’s favourite question; by faking a smile while responding “I’m ok”. The truth is that most of the time I don’t even know how I’m feeling. I just know that something is missing.

I feel stuck in time, while life just happens around me. I struggle to live. 4 months and 28 days of survival on a world that don’t make sense anymore.