Beginning my Journey of Grief

     In the months following the death of my Johnny, my family and I went on a journey. The journey called Life After Loss. If you have ever lost a loved one, you can more than likely relate to this. My journey was, of course, unique to my husband's journey, and the journeys of those around us. For me, I can honestly say, I am still journeying. When I look at all that I have gone through, all I have learned in the past year and a half, I can only thank my God for His faithfulness. I have literally been changed by my son's life and loss.
    In the first months my emotions were hard for even me to understand. I tried to get back to living, taking care of my children and starting back to directing theater and all the other things I do. Anything normal seemed therapeutic in a sense, but it didn't take away any of the pain. Instead, after my day of normal work and routine was through and the house got quiet, I would cry and cry some more. Most nights, I cried myself to sleep and my husband would hold me, pray with me, or cry with me.
     I hated my belly. Having an un-toned  tummy was just a reminder that I had no baby to show for it. I felt as though I was being judged and watched by everyone around me. Like people would see my leftover baby weight and wonder where my baby was or why it was still there when my youngest was already 2.
     I wanted to talk about him all of the time, but was scared of what others might think. How would people react when I talked about my dead son? I didn't want pity or "I'm sorry's"  just acknowledgement that he existed. I didn't even know why I wanted this from everyone.
     I wanted to do things for him and for myself. I began writing a list of goals - the things I wanted to do for him and things I wanted to do just for me, then I began doing them. It felt good to begin setting and fulfilling goals even if they were little things.
     I was terrified of getting pregnant again. My husband and I had always held tight to the view that children are a blessing. Since we had first been married, we decided to give God control over my womb. But for the first time, I did not want to give God that control.  For the first time I felt like I was justified in this. For the first time the idea of  preventing children appealed to me.
     My husband was so patient with me. He tried to encourage me but waited for me to get through whatever this was as well. He held tight still to the truth that every child is a gift and that it was wrong for us to want to prevent a gift, but he didn't push me and respected me. I know he was afraid of losing another child or even facing a pregnancy or birth again after Johnny's, but his belief that God is the giver of life and that life is a gift outweighed his fears even in the beginning of his grieving.
     I didn't want just a baby, I only wanted MY JOHNNY, MY BABY. There were days when everything inside of me screamed and ached for him alone. I couldn't imagine having another baby, wouldn't that be like trying to replace him? How would he know that I will always remember him if I had another baby so soon? How would I know that I would always remember him?
     I didn't know HOW to grieve. I spoke with a few women that I knew personally that had suffered a stillbirth or lost a baby as an infant. Their words were comforting. Knowing that these women had been where I was made me feel less crazy. I looked into the 5 steps of grief. These only confused me more. Some days I would feel like I had moved into the next stage of grief, only to feel that I had slipped back a step or two the following day! I  felt as though since I couldn't follow these 5 steps of grief, that I was doing it all wrong. My husband, Kris, reminded me that everyone grieves differently and that he felt the same way sometimes. I left these steps behind. It was so much less confusing. I decided to grieve in my own way, one day at a time.