I found this poem and I feel so touched…
What is Normal After Your Child’s Death?
Normal is having tears waiting behind every smile when you realize someone important is missing from all the important events in your family’s life.
Normal for me is trying to decide what to take to the cemetery for Birthdays, Christmas, Thanksgiving, New Year’s, Valentine’s Day, July 4th, and Easter.
Normal is feeling like you know how to act and are more comfortable with a funeral than a wedding or birthday party…yet feeling a stab of pain in your heart when you smell the flowers and see the casket.
Normal is feeling like you can’t sit another minute without getting up and screaming, because you just don’t like to sit through anything.
Normal is not sleeping very well because a thousand what if’s & why didn’t I’s go through your head constantly.
Normal is reliving that day continuously through your eyes and mind, holding your head to make it go away.
Normal is having the TV on the minute I walk into the house to have noise, because the silence is deafening.
Normal is staring at every little girl who looks like she is my baby’s age. And then thinking of the age she would be now and not being able to imagine it. Then wondering why it is even important to imagine it, because it will never happen.
Normal is every happy event in my life always being backed up with sadness lurking close behind, because of the hole in my heart.
Normal is telling the story of Valentina’s death as if it were an everyday, commonplace activity, and then seeing the horror in someone’s eyes at how awful it sounds. And yet realizing it has become a part of my “normal”.
Normal is each year coming up with the difficult task of how to honor your child’s memory and her birthday and survive these days. And trying to find the balloon or flag that fits the occasion. Happy Birthday? “Not really”.
Normal is my heart warming and yet sinking at the sight of something special my baby loved. Thinking how she would love it, but how she is not here to enjoy it.
Normal is having some people afraid to mention Valentina.
Normal is making sure that others remember her.
Normal is after the funeral is over, everyone else goes on with their lives, but we continue to grieve our loss Valentina forever.
Normal is weeks, months, and years after the initial shock, the grieving gets worse, not better.
Normal is not listening to people compare anything in their life to this loss, unless they too have lost a child. NOTHING. Even if your child is in the remotest part of the earth away from you – it doesn’t compare. Losing a parent is horrible, but having to bury your own child is unnatural.
Normal is taking pills, and trying not to cry all day, because I know my mental health depends on it.
Normal is realizing I do cry everyday.
Normal is disliking jokes about death or funerals, bodies being referred to as cadavers, when you know they were once someone’s loved one.
Normal is being impatient with everything and everyone, but someone stricken with grief over the loss of your child.
Normal is sitting at the computer crying, sharing how you feel with chat buddies who have also lost a child.
Normal is a new friendship with another grieving mother, talking and crying together over our children and our new lives.
Normal is not listening to people make excuses for God. “God may have done this because…” I love God, I know that my baby is in heaven, but hearing people trying to think up excuses as to why healthy babies were taken from this earth is not appreciated and makes absolutely no sense to this grieving mother.
Normal is being too tired to care if you paid the bills, cleaned the house, did laundry, or if there is any food.
Normal is wondering this time whether you are going to say you have two children or one, because you will never see this person again and it is not worth explaining that my baby is in heaven. And yet when you say you have one child to avoid that problem, you feel horrible as if you have betrayed Valentina.
Normal is avoiding McDonald’s and Burger King playgrounds because of small, happy little girls that break your heart when you see them.
Normal is asking God why he took your child’s life instead of yours and asking if there even is a God.
Normal is knowing I will never get over this loss, in a day or a million years.
And last of all, Normal is hiding all the things that have become “normal” for you to feel, so that everyone around you will think that you are “normal”.
-author unknown
I miss you really bad… When I read stories, I never knew the extensity of that phrase.
Today, you should be 2 months old and I should be verry happy, I’m verry proud of you. I always remember the time that we had together. I remember each day, each little thing I had with you, when you were inside me was amazing. I only wanted to meet you, to see your little face, to hold you. I wanted to make you happy and proud of Mommy, just as I have done with your little brother. Then when you were born, I was really scared but happy because I could see you and I knew how strong you were. Each day, you make me happy with your happiness. Each day, I was really tired but I was with you, even when it’s hard see you like that, you were my reason. You were with me during pregnancy and for a month and a week after, you are part of me…
At the age of one month and a week, you were taken by God, to see his face. You maybe were smiling and happy, after all you have to been through. I could see the peace in your face while at your funeral
I have talk to some ladies that have lost their babies. Maybe you make those babies your friends and play with them, you were really happy and friendly.
You should know that my hair was my life, it was some of the most beautiful things I had. The day after your funeral, I cut it. You take my life with you. I promise you I will look different, but my hair doesn’t include it. All I wanted was to look at the mirror and see someone else, not the one who cried at her little treasure’s death.
I’m scared of everything I do, but most of drive. Its the second day of the week and I almost crash like 5 times, my mind its thinking of you or even worse its in blank, I feel lost…
I MISS YOU VALENTINA, MY LITTLE BABY
14/MAY/09 – 22/JUN/09
My baby was born on May 14, almost a month ago. It was a really long day. I went for an appointment and had to stay because my baby had to be born already. I was scared, they didn’t allow the baby’s father to be with me, so we were texting while I was with the doctors, but then I went out just to give him my things, it was 9 am (aprox). Now I wasn’t even allowed to keep my cell phone. We were really scared, and excited at the time. I stayed in a little room just looking around and I didn’t know when but I was sleeping. When I woke up, I was still in the same room. Sometimes, the nurse came and I asked her almost every 5 min “I’m sorry, do you what time is it?” I was so desperate, I just wanted to have my little girl… It wasn’t until 5.40 pm that I was almost going to sleep again!!! They got into the little room and I heard them but this time I didn’t open my eyes until I feel like the bed was moving, I opened my eyes and a nurse told me “We are going to surgery.”
Oh my God, now I was really awake. I realize that my baby wont be in my belly anymore, that I wouldn’t be able to take care of her. It wont depend on me anymore, and I realize anything could happened to her, I was really scared more than any time before in my life. I started crying, and I cry during the whole surgery. I could hear her crying, and the doctor put her beside me so I could gave her a kiss. She was born at 6.01pm And she went at surgery. But She couldn’t have a primary close of her gastroschisis, so now she still at hospital, waiting to have another surgery. I still scared about she going to another surgery.
She is a little happy angel. She always has a smile on her face. And I know she will make it, even when she is really little. My Valentina is now 2.290 kg and 46 cms, and really brave as her name…..
I finally decided to write my story, i will do my best with my English…
When I was 16, I was constantly raped by a close person. After a few months, I got pregnant, and he made me say that the father was my ex-boyfriend, who was a very good person but I wasn’t having sex with him. He made me do that by threatening me for almost 3 months that I stayed in my hometown. My parents were very supportive, and I really wanted the baby.
So my parents took me away, where the father couldn’t find me, because he was looking for me (I don’t know how it’s call it, but it’s a house where help preg women in whatever situation). All was good, I felt peaceful and I thought my pregnancy was fine, but my mom saw me not really healthy and the medical assistance wasn’t good, my mom said. Then they took to the USA when I was about 7 months prego, and just a week after, I started to have contractions. I didn’t want to but I went to the hospital and I had preclamcia. The doctor could wait only two days for the baby get strong and he born on Tuesday, November 09.
My baby was diagnosed with hidrocefalia (Hydrocephaly), its was a really bad time. He was in the hospital for a month, each day hoping a new good advance. He was in good hands. The doctors did a good job, and I really appreciated it.
After a year and a half, I came back to home, enjoyed university and, didn’t need it, but I get a job. Just when all was going really great, I fell in love with someone in the office, and now I’m pregnant again. Its different because the father it around and he is happy. But I’m only 4 months and the baby its already diagnosed with gastroschisis and she will need surgery just born.
I’m too scared. Every moment, I feel like my babies are paying for my mistakes. I love them, even my unborn baby because I can feel her (its a girl). And I don’t regret, I just feel guilty…
Thanks for taking the time to read.
