It’s coming closer. The last day I saw my daughter; the last time I felt her heart beating against mine, before it slowed to a stop. Almost a year ago. A year. A year of feeling lost and confused about the direction of my life. I don’t think people who don’t have children can really understand what I’m talking about.
When you become a parent, it’s a life-altering event. One that makes you realize that this tiny little person is a part of you forever. It’s a piece of you, that you made, a life. A beautiful, curious, joyous life that just wants to be loved by her parents. Your life now revolves around your kid’s life, it becomes your family life. You change your work schedule to spend more time with them. Your weekends are spent more with your new baby than with your friends, and so on. It becomes a part of your new normal. You start to get the hang of it, and even though you go through bumps in the road, you learn to be a mom or a dad, through experience. You expect to have to worry about what they’re eating or if they’re doing well in school.
People never really think what happens if your child dies. When Leah was alive, I sure as hell never tried to think about it. But, it’s so strange, to go from having so much responsibility; so much information to remember about what meds she was taking, how much, at what times, whether she was getting a cold or a bacterial infection, etc. Now, there’s none of that. Our home is so quiet now. It feels like I got demoted. “I’m sorry this position is no longer needed”. I still come home and just feel so lost. I had a routine with Leah. We would give her feeding, her meds, lay with her in her bed, give her a breathing treatment, sing “Dream a little dream” in her ear and caress her soft, beautiful face and hair, until she fell asleep. And even then sometimes, I would still just snuggle with her for hours until I went to bed.
I feel like people around me sometimes are just waiting for me to get over it. They can’t possibly understand that feeling this way isn’t just something you can just get over. She was a part of me, a life that I made and grew inside my body. I felt her before she was born, and when she died it felt as though a huge chunk of me died also. I keep trying get that feeling back. Feeling whole. Even though she was different and had all those medical problems, it never took away the fact that she made me feel complete, happy and loved.
I did yoga outdoors today and it helped me get closer to that feeling. Feeling like a part of everything around me, like one with the universe. Leah was the reason I started meditation. I meditated through the 24 hours of labor, free of drugs and able to let go of the pain. I feel like when I meditate or do yoga, I can let go of some of the pain of losing her. And I feel her instead, and it makes me smile. I remember the little light fluttering around us at her funeral and I know she was there. I know she’s always with me.
I just miss the life we had with her.