Wednesday, August 28, 2013

On heartache.

When I was a young child, we were often bounced from home to home, at the whim of my biological parent's willingness (or lack there of) to take care us. When I was about 3 or 4, we finally landed into a stable home with my grandparents. My mother lived there with us until she ran away in the middle of the night. We never ever saw her again. Talk about abandonment issues, right?

My grandparents are incredible human beings. My grandmother was made to mother, she took incredible care of us. For many different reasons, though, we were placed for adoption when I was around the age of 6, and I will never ever forget the heartache I endured from that loss. I cried myself to sleep every night, for what had to have been months. I truly grieved the loss of my Gammer and Gamper, and my heart was broken.

I remember being that small little girl and pressing my fingers to my chest. My heart physically hurt. I wondered if it would ever stop. In time, it finally did. We were able to visit with my grandparents from time to time, and I somewhat adjusted into my new "home". I carried Isaac for about 13 weeks knowing he would die. I was desperate to enjoy the only time I would have with him, but I was insane with irritation knowing other people passed me by often having no clue what was happening. They would chitter chatter to me about my growing belly and coming baby and how excited I must be. I don't think, even once, I corrected anyone by saying "No, actually, my baby is about to die, we are heart broken".

Isaac was born, we said hello and goodbye in 70 miraculous minutes. It was not until then that my heart truly shattered into pieces. I felt that same damn heart ache again, from childhood, and I remember wishing it away with ever single ounce of energy I had in my body.

The truth of the matter is - broken hearts truly hurt. I would sit and think of my baby, and my heart, my chest was ache terribly. So terribly I never thought it could ever recover again. This physical pain lasted for months. I didn't know how to fix it.

As time has past, little by little, my shattered heart has become whole again. I do not say that lightly, because it took years. Years of grieving and being willing to live with the pain, not knowing when it would ease. For those of you are in the depths of the worst hurt, I promise you, it WILL get better. It will never fully go away, part of my heart is broken over my baby boy forever, but joy will sneak back in, little by little. Keep fighting the good fight. You are loved and needed in this world.

All my love,

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