What a perfect place to have a bereavement room. In the basement.
I did see the bereavement counselor today. She was pleasant enough. We talked for a while. She asked where I gave birth. I pointed my finger up....meaning upstairs...Oh so it must have been hard to come back here today? Not really.
Ok so I don't get it. I didn't really know what to expect from counseling but I don't understand the point of going telling my story, crying becoming upset and I didn't leave feeling any better.
I have people to talk to, a couple of fabulous ladies that know.
I have outlets.
I am aware of the support groups available.
I am aware that I am forever changed.
I am aware that I will never forget my baby.
I am aware that others around me will not understand me or my need to grieve.
I am aware that I will never feel safe in pregnancy again.
I am aware of my need for control and aware of my lack of control of many things involved in Gavin's death, ttc and a subsequent pregnancy.
I will grieve forever, I will never forget my child. As time goes by coping is easier but nothing will ever be the same again. I wish I could go back and change things but I know this isn't possible.
I wish there was something somebody could say or do that would rid my heart of this sad weight. There are no words to accomplish such a feat.
1 comment:
you have the words. You tell them over and over and over, to the bereavement counsellor, to me, to your husband, to God.
It gets easier with the telling. When more of us bear the weight of Gavin, when we remember our children collectively, it becomes lighter - this much I know to be true.
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