Grief

This grieving process is definitely something new for me. Yesterday was mom's cemetary service. I felt an incredible amount of peace having her finally at rest. I felt that sense of peace for most of the day. I thought that maybe I was moving forward. I thought I was making good progress.

Then the sun went down. As I laid in bed last night with the world quiet all around me, my head started spinning. It almost felt like a movie was playing in my head. You know when you watch a movie and they show you all the things flashing through someone's head? That was my head last night. I was seeing the hospital room where mom got her paracentesis performed. I was seeing the way she looked at me. I was seeing the color of the fluid for the first time when it changed to red and I knew something was up. I was seeing her at home the last couple of times I saw her before she died. I was seeing her wither away. I was hearing the sounds she made in her final moments. Intermixed with all this I was seeing little moments from times when I was growing up. It was all just a second of a glimpse of everything and it was moving fast and around and around. And then I was seeing dad all alone in their house. He told me he was lonely last night. I hurt for him. I saw happy times of them together. All of it was just spinning and spinning around in my head.

And then the tears came. And I didn't want to let them come. I have said here before that I cry. It's what I do. At mom's funeral I was a blubbering mess. I couldn't stop crying. I thought maybe I had let most of it out. But rationally, I know that's not true. Last night I just didn't want them to come though. I felt like it was going to be a waterfall of emotions and I wasn't ready. And so I pulled it together and somehow willed myself to sleep.

Today I am tired. So tired. Emotionally and physically.

When I teach labor to parents I explain that it is a full body experience. It involves your body, your mind, your soul. It's not just physical pain. It is truly a full body experience and people have to respect that in order to get through it. I explain the same thing about postpartum. A woman's body is recovering. She may feel good, but she has to remember to take care of herself because her body is recovering from a major transition.

It seems this is the same with grief. I've just started the process, but it is obvious to me that it is a full body experience. It's not just my mind involved in this. It is my physical body and my soul as well. Getting up in the morning is HARD. I don't have the energy to work out even though I know I need to.

I started my new classes on Sunday and am struggling with putting together sentences. I'll get through it, but it's harder than it once was.

Yesterday I thought I was doing well. Today, I feel so sad again. Maybe today is the hardest because Olly is back to work for the first time since Friday and it has been a busy few days. Friday we went up to Arlington, I picked up mom's ashes, we stayed in a hotel and spent time with family. Saturday was mom's funeral. Sunday was actually a day of rest, but Olly was home with me. Yesterday was mom's cemetery service.

Today really is day 1 of moving forward. It's been two weeks since mom died. Two weeks ago I was making the trek up to spend some time with dad and help him with mom. And she died.

In those two weeks, I have also done a birth, taught two classes, did 4 doula related appointments, took 2 finals, finished my first term at school, and started my 2nd term. What I probably haven't done enough of is rest and mourn. I know I probably should. But my mind just doesn't want to do it.

Two weeks. It honestly seems like an eternity in some ways. So much has happened in those two weeks and now life starts to return to "normal". Even more normal than the last 6 months. There are no more paracentesis appointments. There is no more waiting and wondering. Although I'll still be calling and checking in on dad twice a day, I'm not terrified of making that call. Life will return to a new normal. A normal where my mom is no longer here on this earth. It's not really a normal I want, but it is what I have.

And perhaps that normal is what terrifies me now. But it may be the thing that gets me through this. Tomorrow is the last of my 8 days off. It went fast. Right now, I'm not feeling ready to get up in front of a class and be "on", but I know that once I'm there I will fall right back into it. I have already noticed that some stories I tell that include my mom will change. I can't, and don't want to, pretend that she is still alive. So, even my work will change. But it is my work. And I love what I do. I have 3 births coming up. I'm ready for those. I'm looking forward to them. I need them. Those births remind me about the beauty of LIFE. I had planned to take December off, but may pick up one more birth simply because I want to.

And so as life returns to it's new normal, I am thankful for all that I have to keep me busy. But it's obvious that the grief will find it's way in when it can. At night. In the silence. And then I think about dad who doesn't have all that I have to keep me busy. I told Kiersten that it seems so unfair that we have so much to keep us busy that we can't stop to grieve and my dad needs something to keep him busy so he doesn't have to sit alone in that house only thinking of all he has lost.

Nonetheless...we all have to grieve. We can push it away and push it away, but it will find its way in. And I have to allow it in if I want to work my way through it.

It is a full body experience, and like labor, you have to work with it and not fight against it.

It's not easy in labor. It's not easy with grief. But the really important stuff in life is never easy.