From There to Here

I'd be lying if I didn't say that I've been having a hard time lately with processing my grief. The first several weeks after Soren's birth were a blur - a very welcomed distraction from the emotional events of Freja's birthday, death day, etc...

Now that life is beginning to once again become somewhat 'normal,' (I use the term loosely,) with the routines of caring for my three children who are here on earth, my mind has been wandering back to that 'grief place' and I've been missing Freja incredibly.

I feel terrible that I haven't gone to her grave since Mother's Day (though, DP went on Father's Day and spent some time with her.) I'm scared that it makes it look like I've just moved on, and am 'over it,' especially with the birth of Freja's baby brother. That couldn't be further from the truth. The truth is, I just haven't been able to handle the idea of going there lately. Seeing her grave is such a horrific thing - to know that my baby is down there, all alone, in that horrible cold wet ground just shatters me into a million pieces. And now there's that whole new level of grief I feel for Freja that I've been wading through since the birth of her brother. Don't get me wrong, he brings SO, SO, SO much joy to my life that has literally SAVED my life and given it a much more positive direction, but it's only natural to grieve the loss of all the new things he's doing and that we're doing with him that we never had the chance to do with her. So I'm being gentle with myself and not pushing myself to do certain things that I'm not able to do at this particular moment, knowing that the time will come when I am able to face them once again and continue to work through my grief actively. I'm well aware of the fact that I am at a much higher risk of developing PPD than most women, and I really, REALLY do not want to become debilitated and overwhelmed by depression when the most healing thing I can do for myself is to spend quality time with my sweet newborn, and be thankful to the higher powers above who have given me the opportunity to become a mother again under normal, happy circumstances.

It's hard to believe that I've just passed the fifteen-month mark since Freja's birth. It still seems so recent to me. I remember during those early weeks and months following her death, I wished for nothing more than the year to pass, to become further away from the grating, fresh pain of her loss. Now, in a way, I miss that fresh grief; Time is still moving on and each day that passes means that I am just that much further away from the time she lived. Part of me will always live in 2009 and although I wake up every morning and get out of bed and do all the things that need to be done around the house and for my kids, deep down I am still very broken over the entire experience, although I guess I'm adapting and have become more 'functionally broken.'

I've been feeling really reminscent of this time last year. Our first Summer in which we were dealing with the huge aftershock of her death. On the days that I actually felt able to leave the house, I would pack up the kids and my camera and go to the next town over. Some days we would just drive for hours, and some days we would spend time at a quiet little beach, or at playgrounds where nobody knew us. Being able to go someplace where there were no expectations of conversing with people I knew was the only way that venturing out of the house was bearable. I also found solace in photography and spent day after day searching for beauty to capture in a universe that had let me down so badly. It became my 'drug;' Finding beautiful scenes in nature brought glimpses of lightness to my being, a feeling that was otherwise nonexistant.

So here's to this second Summer which is upon us, and the constant exploration of hope, healing, and faith that we will continue to experience those moments of beauty that make life worth living.