As minutes, hours, days and months go by I feel my pain has yet to subside. I know I’ve smiled and laughed since Tyler left this world. However, the overall joy behind it all hasn’t felt genuine. This weekend we’ve kept busy, we’ve gathered with friends, saw a movie, had a nice dinner together and tried to just enjoy life again. I must admit – when I’m with my husband, is when I feel my safest. He’s there when I need him, he doesn’t judge me when the tears begin to fall and he is the only other person in this world that has the title of Tyler’s parent. Our grief process may be drastically different but we somehow always know exactly how to comfort the other in our dark moments.
I’ve recently stumbled onto a group of bereaved mothers as well. Their stories and optimism through such troubling times gives me hope for our future. I’ve had the pleasure of meeting women from all over the world who are going through the same things that we are, at this very moment. I get to see their beautiful angels and share pictures of my own. I am a firm believer in the fact that no one truly knows how deep this pain is unless they themselves have faced it. I know its inevitable that throughout this journey Billy and I both will likely lose friends, as well as make some new ones. It’s sad that when such a tragedy occurs others don’t know how to deal with the situation so they instead ignore it. I am however grateful for the wonderful women that have reached out to me and shared their stories. I’ve made what I feel will be life-long connections with some and just simply enjoyed talking to others. Their courage, ability and will to push on astound me daily.
We’ve made the plunge and decided to follow through with genetic testing in case we are ever ready to try and make baby T a big brother. The thought scares me beyond belief. I feel as though by taking that step I’m somehow trying to replace my precious boy. I also fear that if we were to ever have another child, I wouldn’t be able to love them in the same way that I love sweet Tyler. I know that only time will tell, but I do ask that you keep us in your prayers.
It’s been 108 days since we were able to hold our son. Each day that number will grow from now until our time here is done. My heart never stops longing for him and I know, never will. I pray that with one day at a time and one foot in front of the other, I can spread Tyler’s legacy all over this world and keep his memory alive. After all, each new life, no matter how brief, forever changes the world.
One thought on “Learning to live again.”
My best friend often recalls the moment when her 2nd child, born just a few months after her 1st, Jordyn, died of cancer at the tender age of 2. She says she started bawling the second she laid eyes on him, her heart grew 10 sizes and instantly she was in love! The pain is still very raw to her some days, even after 16 years, but love is possible again! She has 7 children, 6 walking this Earth and one waiting in Heaven.
Thinking of you.