Contentment
I have been very fortunate in my life. I have been able to have fulfilling jobs, travel to amazing places, follow my passions and am loved by my husband, daughter and family. In all ways, I can say I am content and happy. The one small break came after losing Oliver.
Ever since Natalie was born, I have documented her entire life with thousands of photos. I love photography and the ability to 'stop' time and capture that very moment. All of my photos are neatly organized on my computer, first by week and then by month, all starting with Natalie's birthday. I keep coming back to this photo of myself and Natalie taken on Mother's Day, May 10th. The day before our world came crashing down. In this photo, I look so content and at peace, probably because I was. I honestly didn't have a care in the world. As I think back to that time, I remember also fearing my sense of contentment. I knew the rug could be pulled out from underneath me at any time. And the truth is, it can. But that is life. Even more reason to enjoy each moment. In the photo, I had my beautiful daughter in my arms and was happily pregnant with our second child. I could even say I had a bit of pregnancy glow in that photo. I hate having to scroll beyond that day, because I know everything changed. I'm smiling in the photos, but I feel like I actually look different. You know when you see people after a tragic event and they have aged years? I now feel like I've become one of those people. You can see their pain and the weight on their shoulders, come out physically in their appearance. I feel like my smile becomes a little more 'true' every week that goes by and I can see more of myself, the old me, from that Mother's day photo. I sometimes worry I will never be that content again. And how can I when someone is missing?
I know I will never be the same girl in that photo. I am her, but changed. I feel broken, yet stronger. I've felt immeasurable sorrow, but feel that my life will be more fulfilling because of it. I can only find my way back to that level of contentment by being thankful for what I have right here and right now. When I look at my daughter's beautiful smile and watch her grow, kiss my husband everyday, and enjoy an amazing day with my family, I know I still have true happiness. It is just different then before. Yes, someone is missing, but he will never be forgotten and it is because of him that my journey is now deeper and more fulfilling.
“The deeper that sorrow carves into your being the more joy you can contain."
Kahlin Gibran
Hi,
Thanks for your comment on my blog. It is nice to know someone else whose due date is close to mine. I was on the October 2010 birth board as well. I know October is going to be a hard, hard month so it is good (well, you know what I mean, I'm not glad that it will be a hard time for you - I wish your baby was alive) to have someone to go through it with.
Your post here is exactly how I think and feel. I have been very lucky in my life. I've had some difficult times, but no major catastrophe's and I've always had what I needed and more.
Now I feel like I am in a different club. The club of people with a good life overall, but a huge tragedy that blurs over the goodness a little (or alot, depending on the day).
I have a few pictures of myself from the very morning that I found out that Jacob had died. I took them before leaving for the doctor's office and I had forgotten about them until I was going over pictures a few weeks after having him. I'm just not the same person who is in the picture, I sometimes wonder if I will ever have that light in my eyes again. I was so happy and so looking forward to hearing his heartbeat that morning. Little did I know that I had already heard it for the last time and what that day and the next day (when I gave birth) and the rest of my life would be. It is so odd to look at that picture now.
My smiles for weeks after losing Jacob were always fake, with the odd exception when my 2 year old nephew did something that would make me smile. But I still did it through tears, knowing I would never see Jacob do whatever it was Ben did.
I don't know if we will ever be as content as we were before, I doubt it. I have to assume that we will be, but we will always have that nagging feeling deep inside since our son's are missing.
"I know I will never be the same girl in that photo. I am her, but changed. I feel broken, yet stronger. I've felt immeasurable sorrow, but feel that my life will be more fulfilling because of it." - EXACTLY how I feel
“The deeper that sorrow carves into your being the more joy you can contain."
That is an excellent quote. I'm going to save it and read it everyday.
Hi there, I saw your comment on Kelle Hampton's blog and wanted to say hello. I also lost a baby boy at 18 weeks 3 days. He was my second baby. I have a daughter and a baby boy I had after I lost my first son. I couldn't agree more with what your wrote above. Life has changed in such a way that you can never expect. It changes you and you feel like you will never be the same. I know I am not the same person. Am I stronger? Yeah, I think so but I also feel that I am more compassionate and in tune to all the things that "can and do go wrong". Innocence is lost as they say.