Monday, December 20, 2010

i will never be "better"

there have been several times in the last 2 months in which i have chosen to brush off something that someone {trying to be helpful} has said to me. i tend to give people the benefit of the doubt, and i find myself doing that even in my grief. believe me, i know that everyone's intentions are good, and that no one is trying to hurt me or cause me more pain. but with that said, when i hear a certain "theme" more than once, i feel like it's my duty to talk about it in the hopes that i won't have to hear it again. there have been a few occasions in which people have commented on my "not getting better" or asking if i'm "feeling better." and here is my {sincere} response to them...

i will never be "better." to ask me if i am, or to check on my status in terms of the word "better" is to imply that this is a temporary condition, and it is not. i didn't break a bone. i didn't stub my toe or catch a cold. i lost my son. he passed away. and unfortunately for me, death is the most permanent condition.

i was my best when i had Julius. i was the happiest i had ever been. i was the most fulfilled i had ever been. but when he died, my heart was ripped out of my chest. a piece of me was forever lost. and unlike a starfish, i can not regenerate this piece. i will never be made whole again. so to say that i am better would mean that i can go back to the person i was when i had my baby with me. and i can not. i will never be that person again.

from here on out, even my happiest moments will be twinged with pain because there will always be someone missing from our family. every future family picture will be incomplete, every future family function will be incomplete. and that is not something that can be resolved even if D and i go on to have 500 more children. There will always be a Juju-shaped void.

but what i am doing now is adjusting. i am adjusting {albeit slowly and painfully} to life without my son. i am adjusting to the life of no longer being a mother {an earthly mother, that is}. i am adjusting to being able to go anywhere i want whenever i want, and being able to fit into all of my pre-pregnancy clothes {i never thought i would hate them so much}. i am learning how to do everything again - how to walk, how to talk, how to eat, how to breathe - as this different person. and the only reason that i'm doing this is because i have no other choice.

so please, i know you mean well, but don't ask me if i'm feeling better, because the answer now and forever will be "no".

15 comments:

Angie said...

Sweet girl </3 this post broke my heart. We will always see that missing person from our family photos, even when no one else notices.

I imagine our baby boys playing together in Heaven, so happy and full of love, wondering why we're so sad down here on earth.

Megan said...

Nope, we will never be the same person we once were! I have never been asked that question, but I know how frustrating certain things can be. After Savannah passed I thought if I heard one more person say "I am sorry," I would explode.

I got a lot of "people just don't know what to say." And that is very true, they don't know what to say so they search for what "a normal" person WOULD say... they DONT KNOW that it hurt or bothers more than it comforts and helps.

We buried a piece of our heart. It is gone. You are correct. We will never be "better."

Vero said...

Reading this has helped me understand more. It is sad that we can hurt when we are trying to help. It is hard to know how to talk to someone who is going through this. For example, just now I wrote "has gone through". Before reading this post I would have left it like that. Now that you have helped me understand a little more, I realize that you didn't "go through it". You still are going through it. Like you said, time will not change the fact that it happened. Thank you for helping me understand a bit more. I hope I will be better able to communicate in the future.

Dal and Lottie said...

Please read this blog....http://patrickandashley.blogspot.com/2010/12/we-love-you-monkey.html

A family who lost their 18 month old and she is adjusting as well

Trena said...

This post says it all. ((hugs)) ♥

Angie said...

You explained this so nicely.

I find that the more time that passes, the more frustrated and less patient I get with people. I know that they mean well, but dealing with people gets tiresome when they can't seem to help themselves from making hurtful comments. (Apparently, having another child 'fixes everything', at least in the minds of those who have never lost a child.)

I think you handled this very well, though. :)

Rhiannon said...

AMEN to this post! I would love to link this to my blog. It is good for people to read especially for those who think this is a temporary condition. Thinking of you and sending lots of love and strength your way as Christmas approaches. <3

Tiffany said...

thank you all for your kind words ♥

@rhiannon, link away. :)

Organized Chaos said...

Exactly! Thanks for speaking truth as always Tiffany! I feel the same way.

rebecca said...

Thank you for so perfectly putting this into words, as Rhiannon said, its so important for people to read this and better understand. Although they're well intentioned as you said, it's frustrating to think that others think you'll ever be "better" now that your life has been so tragically altered. <3 you so much my friend ((hugs))

Marie W said...

Tiffany,
I think we all have encountered others who say the wrong thing. I pisses me off that they even have the audacity to approach you about something they have never experienced. I attend a large church and Sunday after Sunday "well intentioned" people came up to me and unknowingly ticked me off. I finally came up with a saying to repeat to them. "I know my grief makes you uncomfortable and you have no idea what to say. No offense, but what you are saying is not helping, in fact its making it worse. Want to know how you can help? Just tell me you are thinking of me and praying for me". That usually shuts them up.

No amount of children will ever replace Julius or completely fill the void, let them know that. {Hugs}

MrsH said...

Yes, well said, and I am sorry that people don't understand this concept. Sometimes I feel like the world is divided into people who have had a great loss and understand the feelings that come with it and the massive change of life, and people who simply don't...yet.

I think you are getting "better" every day, but not in the way that they mean it. You are adjusting to your life after loss, and learning how to navigate it, and becoming more skilled at it. You understand yourself more and are better able to teach others how to speak to you, or how to behave around you. There are little things that are getting "better" but not in the sense of "going towards where they were" but rather "given what you have right now, making the most you can out of it". I am rambling, sorry.

Our Journey said...

You are so right. I think people just expect that one day everything will be just fine. I experience that now especially because we have Levi. I don't cry as much as I used to, but on Sunday at the mall I cried. I was picking out an ornament to memoralize my daughter. She should be celebrating her first Christmas along with her new brother. So, no, you will never be better, but everyday, you will learn to cope and God will make his grace so overwhelming in your life at just the right times. (((hugs)))

Jamia said...

I can imagine people asking you if you are "better" esp at work. I hope they read this post. I know you will never feel "better." I don't think that anyone who knew and loved J will ever feel "better." I just hope that you will continue to feel like "Tiffany." I know that may sound crazy, but honestly, reading your posts makes me feel like you are still "there" (if you get my meaning) and underneath all the pain and sadness that you are still the Tiffany that I know and love.

Dana said...

Beautifully said. I feel exactly the same way.

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