I have been waiting for the 18th to roll around for at least a week. Each Wednesday morning I awake knowing another week has passed. And as the 18th of January approached, I knew I was going to have to face Waverly's two month absence.
I do not think two months has ever felt so long. I remember being pregnant and each month dragged on with the anticipation of a baby. And the month we waited for Oliver's diagnosis felt like an eternity. However, neither compare to two entire months without our beautiful little girl. Her absence is a finite stoppage of time. Our world shifted that day unlike ever before and there is no returning.
Grief is not linear. I will not 'get over' it. I choose to be honest with my emotions and vulnerable with my pain. I hope it allows my friends to better understand me and provide comfort to other people experiencing grief.
I have realized that people want to give advice and problem solve, as if my grief is something to be fixed. I try to remind myself that most people's intentions are honorable, however I have to admit to becoming frustrated and angry. The death of a child is isolating in so many ways. I am fighting the urge to retreat because my brokenness can be uncomfortable to those around me. Instead I seek out those who want to come along side of me and sit in my sadness.