Grief and Fear

Something that has stuck with me recently as I submerge myself in the books and stories of parents who are also loss momma’s and dad’s, is this quote that is used in many. At first I didn’t get it. I have read it a thousand times, now I see, now I know why it is used by so many who are walking this grief journey.

“No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.” - C.S Lewis.

It is so true. My heart quickens, my palms are sweaty, my breathing gets faster, my vision blurs, tears sting my eyes. I lose track of where I am or what time it is, and I feel all consumed by it. This is my grief. This isn’t all the time, but I don’t know when it will happen, or why it happens, but it is all fear. I can’t even pinpoint just one thing I am afraid of, because I am afraid of so much. I fear living on moment after moment after Scarlett died. Each second that tics by is filled with burning sorrow, and fear. Fear that I will be happy one day, fear that I won't ever be happy again. Fear that follows me to my dreams, and sinks its teeth in me when I laugh with my friends. It’s in these raw, gruesome moments that I am learning how to live with my grief. I will always grieve for Scarlett for the rest of my life, but I am told it will get easier. It hasn't yet, but they promise me it will.

My biggest source of fear revolves around the idea of having more children. I cry whenever I think about it. I dream about it every night. When Scarlett was alive I wanted nothing more than to have another baby. Scarlett would have been the BEST big sister in the world. She just loved babies. She would have just loved and loved her little baby sibling with her whole beautiful heart. Now the thought of having her baby sibling brings waves of fears, crashing over one after the other. What if that baby dies too? That is the biggest fear.  I couldn't survive this happening again. C.S lewis also said, “To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken.” Again true. Being Scarlett’s Momma was the best thing I have ever done in my life, I felt like that was exactly what I was meant to do, I was meant to love her. To love, especially a child, is to be vulnerable, but what is life though without love? What is life without being vulnerable? I know when the time is ready, my darling Scarlett will show me the way, she will pick out the perfect little brother or sister for her, our perfect second child. I know that deep down in my heart to be true.

I read somewhere that grieving a child is like carrying a heavy, jagged stone for the rest of your life. With time you get use to the weight of it, the jagged edges will eventually smooth over. There may even be a fondness for the stone. Years later it will still jab you just right and will bring you to tears, it will bump into you constantly to remind you it is there, but it gets easier to live with it and love it.

So that is where I am at right now, just trying to survive this fear, learning how to live with my grief, learning how to carry my rock. I continue to try to hold space for these fears (which I know to be a bit irrational, brought on only by grief.) I try to hold them, send love into them and let them go. I continue to try to move forward with gratitude, and I have some amazing ideas about how to continue to spread Scarlett’s happiness.

Thank you for reading my words, and thank you for being so mindful with them. I continue to be forever thankful for your continued support of Ben and I.

Lastly would anyone be interested in a list of the books I am reading and my thoughts on them? Contact me or comment if you are interested in this. Thank you!