I bet you didn't know

I've been writing this for a few days now.  I've found writing lists out helps me sometimes.  My intention is not to offend anyone, just to give some insight into my new life

I bet you didn’t know……

That certain days are hard for me and sometimes for no specific reason

There are some days I can’t even comprehend the thoughts going on in my own head

I often cry myself to sleep at night

Not a moment goes by that I don’t think about my child

When you lose your child, you have to learn how to do everything all over again no matter how small the task

Simple things like grocery shopping can take much longer now as there are times I have to take different and longer paths in a store to stay away from certain people

When I watch TV I have to keep the remote close because I just never know when a commercial will come on that will trigger me

I can’t even set foot in Target anymore

I may appear to look the same on the outside but I’m no longer the person I used to be

I have to sleep with the radio or tv on.  Silence is my worst enemy.

That I am not “strong”.  What I have is not strength.  It’s simply the realization that life does not stop no matter how much I want it to sometimes.  It takes everything I have to try to jump on and not let go.  It’s not strength.  It’s life.

Time will not heal my wounds.  Time will simply teach me how to deal with my shattered heart everyday.

There are several people I’ve had to hide statuses on Facebook because I sometimes can bear to see pictures or read of milestones my child will never reach.

I often cringe when people post things complaining over how their children are sick or acting up.  I would give everything to experience those things with my child

Losing a parent, grandparent or sibling is not the same.  The grief of a parent cannot be understood or compared to any other loss

I love it when people say my child’s name.  The sound is beautiful to me.

If you see me and I’m not crying, it’s ok to cry yourself.  Sometimes I simply have no tears to cry and you take over for me.

Unless I’m in a place where everyone knows, I forever feel like I have a sign over my head saying I lost my child.  I forever wonder if strangers know.

Normal is the most amazing and horrible thing at the same time.  It can bring comfort and sadness.  Normal isn’t normal anymore.

I’m honestly truly happy for everyone who I see announce that they are pregnant.  I also pity and envy their innocence.

If you ask how I’m doing I’ll probably respond with ok, simply because there are no words to describe how I’m actually feeling.

Sometimes I’m just as scared to talk to people as they are to talk to me.

1 in 4 women experience the loss of a child.  Sometimes it’s during gestation, sometimes stillbirth, sometimes during infancy.

There are more parents in this world who have lost children than you know of.

I visit the place where my child is laid to rest often.  My tears of sadness turn to anger as I realize the only way to visit my child is at a cemetery.

There are certain roads I cannot drive on and certain areas bring anxiety.  There have been several times I have driven out of my way to avoid the feeling.

There are certain shows I simply cannot watch anymore.

I’ve bawled over a State Farm commercial and a Taco Bell commercial.

Some triggers are known, some things sometimes are triggers and sometimes they’re not.

Sometimes a trigger comes that you weren’t expecting.  Those are the hardest to deal with.

My dog has hard days too.

It took 2 months for me to finally walk into my child’s room.

The smell of green Palmolive dish soap sickens me.

We’d hoping to have another child but the mere idea scares the hell out of me.

I have a necklace with my child’s name, dates, hand and footprints on it that I wear visibly every day.  I also wear a heart pendant that I never take off because my son used to grab it and not let go – even at a week old.

My mind gets stuck on certain thoughts often.

Many songs are triggers.  The worst are the songs I stumble upon that I never would have thought were triggers.

As much as I’m hurting, I want to share my story and struggles with the world.