WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 6, 2010
i think...
... i want to write a book. let me explain.
in those days, weeks and months after cooper died people sent me books. people who cared about me and thought that a book on grief would help. it was a nice gesture. and i did look at the books, and even attempted to read many of them. but i just couldn't. they were not what i needed. what i needed, besides the obvious, was someone's real life account of loss, not loss of a parent, sibling or spouse, but loss of a child. not a miscarriage. a child. while a miscarriage is a loss, it is a different loss than losing a child who was born, who breathed and who lived with you. i needed that book to not only be about the loss, but it needed some redemptive quality. a glimmer of hope that i would survive the chasm in my heart and find happiness again. that was the kind of book i needed and i could not find it. i have mentioned my desire to write a book to a few close tribe members, but have kept it to myself. now i am putting it out there.
why? because i have heard too many stories lately, one only yesterday, about people losing babies. i want them to know they are not alone, that despite having their world crumble around them that they will survive, they will have happiness and they will love another child again. so many people want to make their loved ones "ok" after a loss. perhaps it is our societal stigma or discomfort surrounding death. people struggle with the right thing to say, and say the wrong thing. i could never fault people for wanting me to be ok after cooper died. but the reality is that what happened, losing him, was not ok. no one could make it ok. almost two years later, it is still not ok. but i am ok. and more than that, i am ok with his death not being ok. this was hard for me to wrap my mind around and even harder for those have not walked in my shoes. however, my ability to own the fact that his death was not ok, allowed my heart to mend, gave me the ability to find happiness and see the many gifts that my cooper gives me every single day. the biggest one being his little brother chace.
while my way of dealing with my loss is not the only way to do so, nor i have i always been graceful about it. i do work hard and have done hard work, sometimes impossible work since that day in december that forever changed my life. and every day i make a conscience choice to live my life in a way that honors cooper. there are still nights that i cry myself to sleep or want to go down the drain with the bath water, but i choose to keep putting one foot in front of the other each every morning and will continue to do so until the day that i die. and this is what i want people to know.
am i utterly crazy?
in those days, weeks and months after cooper died people sent me books. people who cared about me and thought that a book on grief would help. it was a nice gesture. and i did look at the books, and even attempted to read many of them. but i just couldn't. they were not what i needed. what i needed, besides the obvious, was someone's real life account of loss, not loss of a parent, sibling or spouse, but loss of a child. not a miscarriage. a child. while a miscarriage is a loss, it is a different loss than losing a child who was born, who breathed and who lived with you. i needed that book to not only be about the loss, but it needed some redemptive quality. a glimmer of hope that i would survive the chasm in my heart and find happiness again. that was the kind of book i needed and i could not find it. i have mentioned my desire to write a book to a few close tribe members, but have kept it to myself. now i am putting it out there.
why? because i have heard too many stories lately, one only yesterday, about people losing babies. i want them to know they are not alone, that despite having their world crumble around them that they will survive, they will have happiness and they will love another child again. so many people want to make their loved ones "ok" after a loss. perhaps it is our societal stigma or discomfort surrounding death. people struggle with the right thing to say, and say the wrong thing. i could never fault people for wanting me to be ok after cooper died. but the reality is that what happened, losing him, was not ok. no one could make it ok. almost two years later, it is still not ok. but i am ok. and more than that, i am ok with his death not being ok. this was hard for me to wrap my mind around and even harder for those have not walked in my shoes. however, my ability to own the fact that his death was not ok, allowed my heart to mend, gave me the ability to find happiness and see the many gifts that my cooper gives me every single day. the biggest one being his little brother chace.
while my way of dealing with my loss is not the only way to do so, nor i have i always been graceful about it. i do work hard and have done hard work, sometimes impossible work since that day in december that forever changed my life. and every day i make a conscience choice to live my life in a way that honors cooper. there are still nights that i cry myself to sleep or want to go down the drain with the bath water, but i choose to keep putting one foot in front of the other each every morning and will continue to do so until the day that i die. and this is what i want people to know.
am i utterly crazy?
you are not crazy---you are called.
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