Gone...

Life…it's so different now. Losing Ethan is "well with my soul", but naturally I continue to feel pain. I must admit….I've been an emotional wreck this week. I've learned to hide it well.

Did I ever mention that my coworker and I lost our "babies" at the same time? Her daughter was in her early 30's when she passed away on March 4th - the same day as Ethan's funeral. (Ironically, her daughter and Ethan share the same birthday – February 20th. )

The other day we "checked in" with each other to see how we were both doing. I was amazed to learn that we are experiencing the same physiological effects of grief. She and I are plagued with sleeplessness, stress pains, and unexpected tears. I never had the opportunity to shed tears with another mother who lost her child and it was oddly comforting. Even though we were at work, our brief conversation gave me comfort. Unbeknownst to her, she made me stop feeling "silly" about missing my son.

Believe it or not, I've heard this phrase about a dozen times over the past few months…

"At least you didn't get too attached since he was just a baby."

Over the past few months, this phrase has secretly haunted me. It had me asking myself…

Was I supposed to get over this quicker?

I'm sure these people meant well and I'm not angry that it was said. But…for a while there I was wondering if I was indeed being "O.A." for being so sad. My thoughts changed after the moment I shared with my coworker. She brought up an interesting point during our conversation – we live for our children.

It doesn't matter if Ethan was "only" here for seven days or seventy years, he was still my child - my flesh and blood! Why would I not get attached? I love Ethan as deeply as I love Kevin and Anthony. But…he will never be in my arms again. No kissing boo-boos, sharing laughs, giving advice, or even scolding. Those moments were never meant to be.

It hurts to love someone so much and not be able to share that love with them any longer. I ache inside every day.

Fighting back tears with my coworker gave me a sense of solidarity. I stopped second guessing my thoughts after my conversation with her. It's not natural to outlive your children, period. My grief is real and equal to someone who had the opportunity to "know" their child. My sorrow is not any easier to cope with just because he was "only" here for seven days. I learned that we're both trying to figure out how to function amongst our pain. Our "babies" are gone. Life goes on, but the hurt will never go away. We must live the rest of our lives with this fact.

God will give me the strength to be at peace with this new life.