Hi, it’s me.
I have several valid excuses I prepared to head this blog post but ive mommed too hard today to be less than blunt. It hurts and scares me sometimes to be here, with my own grief.When I skim back through my words, even from six months ago, my voice sounds funny. Like when you listen to yourself on an answering machine, you know it’s you because well you recorded it but it makes you scrunch your nose.
Now try reading how when your baby died you thought you would too. So.
Ive been avoiding it, here.
It took a crazy amount of energy, therapy, prayer, love, patience and swearing to learn how to compartmentalize my grief. We now co-exist. I’ve put it in a cardboard box, with bold sharpie outlining the letters, and it lives in the corner of my mind. Not Piper but the pain, anguish, horror, trauma stay in the box with mear packaging tape. If I clean, blow the dust, read an old blog post ahem, open a Mother’s Day card the box could tip over and you might as well rename it Pandora. So sometimes I tip-toe around it.
I shook and cried as I opened my notewriter this evening. I wanted desperately to end my day with quiet and the latest episode of real housewives but I read a hard, raw article yesterday about child loss and all kept thinking about was I need to tell them.
You will survive.
I think my my therapist used the word “catatonic” to describe me after my baby died. I had to google it because while I know the Hollywood protrayal I was fuzzy on the medical terminology.
“An immobile or unresponsive stupor” says Mr. Webster.
Yup. That was me. With a side of anxiety and a sprinkle of hysteria.
I can’t tell you how but you will, survive. Your child doesn’t need to be survived, you’ll celebrate them. I’m incredibly proud to be both Piper and Birdie’s Mom but the pain will need to be fought. And it will be one hell of a fight but when you are standing there with your sharpie you will fell this, this peace, this joy and love. I really don’t know who needs to hear this. I know I did and someone told me. I’m ending my third Mother’s Day without Piper saying this:
You will stand on the other side with a sharpie in hand and your baby in your heart. You will survive.
I wanted to take today, Mother,s Day, to honor my girls by spreading hope. Because sometimes that’s all there is, hope.
rest easy Piper Kai.
Piper Kai Bennett
I will scream, sing and share her story may it be short. Our only child was born still at 36 weeks secondary to an umbilical cord accident. This is our journey about choosing life rather than existence.