March. This month gives me anxiety and I’m looking forward to it being over. This is the month when my life and the way I view the world was forever altered. Not once, but twice in this month I was traumatized so deeply that I’m still digging myself out of the wreckage. The first horror was losing Ben in 2016. The second was a bad car accident in 2019, which only served to damage me further. Now, here I am with many lingering side effects and a sometimes cynical outlook on the world.
As the years pass my emotional and mental responses to this month have become gradually less intense (I still don’t like it, though). I’ve spent a plethora of time discovering more about myself and learning how to heal while forever harboring grief. The reality is I’ll never not hurt. I’ll never fully be healed. I’ll always miss Ben and wish he was here. I’ll forever ask the unanswerable questions: “Why?”, “What if…?” But, when I reflect upon my tragedy, I realize two joyful things. One, that I’m not alone. And two, that I’m blessed.
I’m not alone. Losing Ben didn’t just affect me. His father feels his absence just as significantly and his grandparents hurt for the joy they’ll never experience with one of their grandchildren. We all carry the unspoken understanding that each of us has been changed in unique ways by losing Ben. I’m also not alone because I have other loss parents. Beyond Ben, there are so many babies who have gained their wings, too. Because of that, there is a community of moms and dads who, like me, all wish they didn’t belong, but steadfastly cling to each other for the kind of love and support that others just aren’t equipped to provide. We’re forever connected by shared loss and at any given moment I can reach out to these people knowing they truly GET me.
I’m blessed. Somewhere in between anguish, grief, cynicism, depression, and anxiety are these warm rays of light that have been lovingly filling in all the ugly space around my broken pieces. My family and friends have been constant comfort. There’s a few individuals who have never stopped reaching out or offering support; and they remember Ben every single year on March 25th. My healing journey would absolutely not be as far along without these champions, nor would it be without the living kids God has blessed me with. These kids, two biological and one bonus, have brought me more joy than my heart can hold. When I’m the most down, I think of them first and I become enveloped into all the beauty that motherhood brings; and I take time to appreciate each of them for exactly who they are.
There are many more blessings in my life ranging from minuscule to grandiose, I just named the most significant ones to me, otherwise you’ll be reading a book instead of a blog. Plus, they’re the easiest to lean into when I’m most in need. But, the more I look, the more I uncover. I make a point of remembering each blessing regularly, which keeps my healing moving forward at a steady pace.
These two affirmations; “I am not alone” and “I am blessed”; have become the reasons my body, mind, and spirit are able to continue making space for joy alongside grief. Seven years later, and I can finally carry them both with ease. And even though I’m still working through the effects of trauma, I know that I’m being repaired in the best ways possible.
The Reinvented Mom 