There is always room to whine. Even if there is none, I even fight to make it. Although many people perceive me as cheerful and playful, I am actually an old nag. I want to say that everything is Sofia’s fault, but she is not guilty for me not being able to stop. I say NO to people. The social worker replaced the physiotherapist and consequently I bark on the waiter because he forgot to bring a jug of water to the table. It is not his fault that I am tired much more as I would be, if my child would not have special needs. I do not want to admit that sometimes Sofia is the reason for my bad mood. Even at psychologists, I am not able to confront the pain. It is not until I observe other parents, that I can see that I have skipped the mourning phase. I fast-forwarded.
Namely, the pain of losing a baby is indescribable. We all understand that. Only few understand what it means to lose a chance for a healthy baby. I am not amongst them, because, if I would have such a mind-set it would meant I do not love her. Therefore, I do not let the mourning overcome me. I even say it to myself that it is forbidden to mourn, but the weight of anger mixed with being burned-out forces me to pause. I silently repeat to myself that regardless of my unconditional love, Sofia is my pain.
I encourage myself to regret that small fraction when my child was not born healthy and would be waving with a yellow scarf to me today. From time to time, children that were born in the same time as she was remind me that it hurts because she is different. I am not capable to mourn, regret, unconditionally love and bear the horrible pain at the same time. How big does a heart need to be to endure all of this? How can I handle the whole chaos when in my world one thing supersedes another one but on the other hand, nature wants me to take upon all these feelings.
It wants me to stop hiding from the pain. It is time that I, the hero of my life, sit on the grass, relax and let my heart hurt. Even though I am afraid to bleed out to death, I need to let it hurt, because I won’t be any less strong because of this, even though I am afraid I might be.
Individuals with difficult ordeals are my mirror. In them, I can notice the vanity that is similar to mine. Searching for the culprit in the system and in the therapists. Nagging around even though everything is alight.
No one is guilty that we have children that we have, or to have an empty space because he or she has already gone or any other horrific experience that changes us. The right thing to do is to surround ourselves with loving people who understand us and embrace us.
Nobody deserves our impertinence or bad mood. However, we all have the right to grieve and hold our pain.