Grief never really goes away. It changes shape and size over time but always lingers somewhere within.
Content Warning: Pregnancy loss, loss of baby
They say time heals all wounds, but I can say from experiences that it is not always the case. It's been over eight years since I lost a part of me and despite spending many hours in grief counseling, I haven't quite gotten over the loss of my precious baby girl. I still remember everything clear as day. My husband was beside me as we stared at the droplets of water slowly running down the window against a gloomy background. But even the rainy climate could not dampen my spirits because I was about to welcome our daughter into the world. It was supposed to be the happiest day of my life, even though I couldn't stop thinking about the complications that had suddenly emerged.
My doctor had hooked me onto many machines after checking my vitals. A bunch of tests had been ordered by her "just to cover our bases," she said. Positive thinking was one of the few lessons that I had picked up during my Lamaze classes and they came quite handy that day. I kept telling myself that everything was fine but deep within I could tell a storm was about to sweep away all my happiness. Moments later I was told that there were some complications with my pregnancy and that I immediately needed to be wheeled into surgery for an emergency C-section.
Panic kicked in immediately after and I began praying for my child's health, but that did no good. Before I could be rushed to the ER, the contractions became intense and the machines around me began beeping one after the other. Nurses and doctors hurried towards me and the rest was a blur. The next thing I remember is seeing my doctor holding my baby girl in her arms. Tears of joy pooled down my cheeks knowing my child has finally come into this beautiful world. I longed to hear her first cry but that never happened. Confused, I looked at my husband hoping he could tell me that it wasn't what I feared. But all he did was squeeze my hand tightly and cry quietly.
When her lifeless body was handed to me, I saw a beautiful girl who could have had a brilliant future. My baby died before she could even cry for the first time. She never got the chance to have her first laugh, say her first words, take her first steps, or even enjoy a happy life with us. I spiraled down quickly after this and found myself in a room that was cold but not colder than my heart. The pain I felt at that point was beyond anything I'd ever experienced, especially because everything around reminded me of her. I had never felt so powerless in my life knowing that I could do nothing to bring her back.
When I got pregnant, the thought of our child growing in my belly gave me inexplicable joy. As weeks went by, we began working on the baby's nursery and I picked out just the right shade for our perfect girl. I lost count of how many toys and clothes I'd bought for her. I couldn't wait to be a mother but that dream was snatched from me. When I arrived home from the hospital, grief crept in and I didn't feel like myself for the longest time. It took me at least three years before I finally packed all of her things in boxes and placed them in the attic. It's been eight years, but I still break down whenever I see her things. I had lost her but I couldn't bring myself to part with her things too.
Time is supposed to heal all wounds, but like I said I don't completely agree with that notion. It's true that I don't break down as frequently as I used to four years ago and somehow manage to smile at new mothers whenever I see them on the street with their strollers. I've come a long way over the years because I now have a grip on my emotions most of the time. But dealing with the loss of my first child was never easy, still isn't. If there's one thing I know, there's no point in rushing yourself into anything. Forcing yourself to forget the pain never helps but accepting the reality may encourage you to grow around your grief.
Grief never really goes away. It changes shape and size over time but always lingers somewhere within. While I hope after a few more years of healing I'll be able to get over the pain, I know it's won't go away completely. I lost a part of me when I held her lifeless body in my hand and that heartbreaking memory will live on for as long as I'm alive. I can never really let go of it because it's a reminder of the person I have loved the most in my entire life. I will always love you, no matter what.Disclaimer : The views expressed in this article belong to the writer and are not necessarily shared by lessonslearnedinlifeinc.