The Price I'm Paying...

the other day, I came across this quote which spoke to my heart.

Grief is not a disorder, a disease or a sign of weakness. It is an emotional, physical and spiritual necessity, the price you pay for love. The only cure for grief is to grieve. ~ Earl Grollman


Grief is most definitely the price we pay for love. I pay that price daily, every time I open my eyes.

So why do we do it? Why do we love, sometimes so intensely that it hurts. So intensely that it’s hard for us to determine where the person we love ends and we begin.

Is it that we are gluttons for punishment? Is it that we don’t know any better? After Rebecca lost Lily, I remember speaking with her on the phone, telling her how strong and amazing she was {words that made me cringe when they were said to me just a few months later}, and telling her how if I were in her place, I don’t know that I would have the courage to pick myself up and go through the process of getting pregnant again.

Fast forward a few months to the horrific day we lost Julius…I remember sitting on the floor of the hospital family room – the small room that seems to get even smaller when they tell you that your child has just passed away, and I remember looking over at D and telling him that I wanted to have another child {very matter-of-factly}. Sure, at that precise moment I was probably saying it to fill the chasm in my heart that his absence had just carved out. But as time moved on, my desire to become an earthly mother again has not.

It’s odd, considering I have never really been sure of anything that I have ever done in my life. I became an engineer because, well, it’s an honest profession, and they get paid a decent wage...I guess. I decided to give parenthood a go because, well, it was the “next step” in our lives…I guess. While he was with us I thought how happy I was that we decided to become parents. Julius was so much fun. I loved everything about him, and thought he was an amazing little person. And then the day he passed away, I realized how much I really needed him. He might have technically been dependent on me for everything, but I didn’t realize how much of my life, purpose, and meaning had become intertwined with his mere existence…until he was gone. i can only hope that soon i will get the chance to start the journey to becoming an earthly mother again.

this sunday is International Babylost Mother's day, and the start of 1 of the 2 months that i now dread. my thoughts and my heart goes out to all of those mothers who have lost their babies, their children. since Juju was our 1st and only child, i will especially hold those mothers who are childless close to my heart on sunday and on mother's day the week after. and for those who are reading my blog who are not babylost parents, please take the time on sunday to tell a BLM you know that you are thinking about her and her baby{ies}. i know she would deeply appreciate it.