Child loss feels like losing a vital part of you. Not like a vital organ that you can’t live without because you can live without your child. You live a life forever changed, but you continue to breathe in and breathe out. Maybe it’s like losing a limb. You remember what life was like and the things you could do before the loss. And you are forever stuck with the things you now can not do and the way life is now.
Time divides into things that happened before the death of the child and things that happened after the death of the child.
Everything you see divides into I wish my child were here to see that or I am glad my child wasn’t here to see that.
Every detail of their life is painful ~ the things you wish you could see them do again and the things you will never see them do because they died too young.
The material things you hold on to are painful but comforting and the material things that you let go of you sometimes wish you had back.
Walking into their room will take your breath away but the thought of their room not being there anymore will also take your breath away.
You have the memories that make you laugh until you cry and you have the memories that only make you cry.
Every single morning you wake up to the realization that it was not a nightmare from your sleep, but rather a nightmare that is your reality.
Yes, child loss feels like losing a vital part of yourself.