Just fifteen short weeks after our son Everett was born still into our world I find myself beginning to repair the heart I once believe to be broken for all eternity; the pieces may be clumsily glued back together with the love of my friends and family, forever tattered at the edges, but here I sit, just fifteen short weeks after Everett’s birth beginning to heal. I am dreadingly “moving on with my life” because, as a mother, I must face the facts: I am still here. I am still living, still breathing, still standing. Everett may be gone, but my life lives on and what kind of legacy would I be creating for him if his life & his death were my destruction. What kind of life would I be giving his brothers and father if I lived out the rest of my days wallowing in my grief and letting it consume me?
It’s simply the truth of life after child loss; your world crashes around you and comes to a halting stop. Your heart shatters into what seems like a million irreparable pieces. Everything changes and you feel like you can’t go on. But reality is, the world keeps spinning around you: a fact that often seems unfair and cruel in the midst of your grief. But I promise you, one day you will get out of bed, take a shower, and continue living in a world without your child. You will move on.
I know, I know, for many of you the mere thought of “moving on” without your child is unimaginable. We’ve been trained to believe that “moving on” means forgetting, but, let me assure you, it does not. Whether it is days, weeks, months, or years from now there will come a day when you can read this and see it for the truth that it is: Moving on does not mean forgetting. It does not make you a bad mother or lessen the love you hold for your child. A mother’s love surpasses time and space; a mother’s love continues from now until eternity from this life into the next. Nothing and no one can change that.
So, all you fellow bereaved Mommy’s out there (and I’m speaking to all you women out there who have experienced child loss, at any stage; whether through early pregnancy loss, miscarriage, still birth, or the loss of a child after birth) whose hearts are still beating in spit of being battered and broken do me a favor and repeat after me:
Scream it if you will.
I am a child loss survivor.
I am strong.
I am brave.
I am courageous.
I AM A WARRIOR.
I am a Mommy warrior!”