Wednesday, January 25, 2012


I feel so done.

Grief is really hard.  Yes, there are some gifts to be found within it -- but those gifts don't make the reality of death any easier.  The cavern in my soul is just as deep, just as black.  The gifts of grief only dress the edges of the darkness up a bit.

I keep wondering why I didn't die, too.

I have a really, really hard time envisioning any kind of a future for myself.  This, apparently, is a part of PTSDOfficially defined as "numbing of general responsiveness (not present before the trauma), as indicated by . . . a sense of foreshortened future (e.g., does not expect to have a career, marriage, children, or a normal life span)."

That doesn't make me feel any better.

Well, that's not completely true.  I suppose it's good to know that it's normal to have no sense of future in the midst of grieving traumatic loss.  But that doesn't make the future any easier to face.

I can't believe that it's already January 25.  That it's almost February.  The first Valentine's Day that I was supposed to celebrate with a baby on my hip draws closer.  And after that the first Mother's Day with empty arms, and then the beginning of the first anniversary season of my pregnant days.  A future of wondering if that family I almost had will ever exist.

I am tired.  I want to be done.  This is awful.  I can't stop crying, and don't think I ever will.


  1. Oh, I wish I could make it all better for you. I know it feels so big. It IS so big. And it hurts. And feels like the end of the world. But it is grief. And PTSD. There are so many people sending you love and who want you to know they are there for you. Most of all I wish I could take your pain away from you. I wish nobody had to endure the kind of losses that we have. Much love and prayers coming your way. Email me if you need to. ...

  2. thanks, jana. *hugs*

  3. I can so relate to the fatigue you have...I have been talking to others lately about how very tired I am. I've even started writing the beginnings of a blog post about the absolute exhaustion that happens when you lose a baby. Grieving is so makes you so tired. You are not crazy for feeling the way that you do. Sending you much love and comfort...

  4. Beth, I am so so sorry. Grief is hard work. Hang in there friend. Wishing so much I could fast forward this entire year of reminders and dates for you...

  5. I wish there's a quick cure for grief... Grief makes breathing and living sooooo hard


"I am glad you are here with me."
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King