Angry Grief

It's back from the depths.

I figured it was probably just the holidays, but then Christmas came and went, then New Year's came and went and here I am, still being a total bag. I can't seem to get out of this funk. I feel frustrated and angry everyday- not even just at night anymore, but from the moment I wake up, until I fall asleep.

The hardest part about it is that I'm not mad at someone or something in particular. I just have all of this pent up anger and nowhere for it to go. I feel entirely unlike myself.

A quote

I had my own notion of grief.
I thought it was the sad time
That followed the death of someone you love.
And you had to push through it
To get to the other side.
There is no pushing through.
But rather,
There is absorption.
Adjustment.
Acceptance.
And grief is not something you complete,
But rather, you endure.
Grief is not a task to finish
And move on,
But an element of yourself -
An alteration of your being.
A new way of seeing.
A new definition of self.

-Gwen Flowers

Ugh

I feel like jumping out of my skin. During the day, when I'm busy, I feel totally fine, but the minute it gets quiet or my head hits the pillow, I'm overcome with heartache. Crying doesn't even feel like enough sometimes. My legs shake like they're ready to run a marathon and I just want to scream at the top of my lungs. I'm truly happy during the day, but the night brings on all of the feels and it's impossible to put the sensation into words.

Right now, I'm in the part of the grief cycle where things don't feel like they're getting any better. Maybe it's the month, maybe it's exhaustion or maybe this is just how grief works- the sneaky little bastard.

Christmas Year 2

Christmas this year certainly feels twice as hard as last year. I feel like two different people:

Annalee's mom- empty, heartbroken and hurting

Elliot's mom- excited, full of joy and hope.

Last year we could just be sad. Our hearts were still raw. This year, we're happy and grateful for our friends and family and to have a healthy and happy son who makes us laugh constantly, but there's still a hole. A hole where an 18 month old daughter should be- waiting for Santa, opening presents and eating Christmas dinner.

I feel confused. I know Annalee is carried in so many hearts, but people have understandably moved on- or maybe not moved on, but the focus is on Elliot now, as it should be, but I'm still stuck. Stuck between being a mom of two, but only being able to witness one experience the joy of Christmas.

I just don't know how to feel this year and I suppose that's ok. We've got plenty of Christmases ahead of us to try and figure it out.

To the moms, dads, grandparents, aunts, uncles and friends smiling through the heartache this year, you're not alone. May you find a bit of joy during the holidays all the same.

Capture Your Grief Day 4: Support Circles

At Elliot's meet and greet, we handed out sparklers for friends who wanted to celebrate Annalee's birthday with us in spirit. Receiving photos of our friends and family taking a moment for her brought so much joy to the day. We're so lucky to be surrounded by people who never hesitate to speak Annalee's name; who never stop sending their love on the 20th of each month; who remember her and keep her in their hearts. 

Capture Your Grief Day 3: What it Felt Like

It's impossible to put it into words.

It is every feeling at it's most extreme at basically every moment of every day until you think your heart might burst.

That's as close as I can get.

Capture Your Grief Day 2: Who They Are

Our first positive pregnancy test. Our first ultrasound. The first time I got to experience the glory of maternity pants. The first time I was excited to see my belly grow. The first time we felt baby kicks. The first time we decorated a nursery. The first time we had to come up with baby names. The first time we dreamed about our baby's future.

She is who we'll always wonder about- who she would've been, what her smile would've looked like, how her giggle would've sounded.

She is the missing piece of our hearts.

She is our first daughter, our firstborn.