Back to school – 2

Suddenly it is there again big time. I can’t go around it, but with everything I have, I try to pretend nothing is wrong. I see mothers with babies and tolders. They are there together with me at the school playground to bring big brother and/or sister to school. I feel pain coming up and quickly look the other way while walking into the school building. And despite how cute the todler is that tries to climb the stairs, despite how I fond I am of children, this moment I just can’t bring myself to give some attention to this little kid.

I walk pass the mother and child and try to ignore them, focusing only on my own child. Walking back home after bringing my children to school, I feel empty and more alone then before. I walk without a todler hand in hand. The first few days I managed to push away this feeling. There were still children at home, as secondary school started some days later. But after these days I waved them goodbye as well. Without a child on my hip.

I had not expect feeling this again. This feeling of missing, this amazingly deep pain. I don’t know what to do, so quickly go to work, work that I would not have done if Amanda had lived. Some things I even do because I lost her, like helping out in a group for mothers who lost a child, and blogging.

But how empty this all feels. And how this emptiness continually frets, though usually in the back of my mind. I realize that I long for her so intensely. And she is not here. I had a child, but I can’t do anything for her and with her. She really is not here anymore. To realize that again is so painful, and because it hurts so much and I can not do anything with that feeling, I just continue to work.

I walk home and someone walks up to me, with a tolder on his neck. I feel jealousy and tears burning. In my head it yells: I should have walked here too with mý todler, but I am alone. Without a child in my arms, without a child in a strawler and without a baby in my belly, as I still am not pregnant again and grieve about that too.

So here I am again. In our empty house. The tears finally come and I realize again that people matter. How big or how small they were doesn’t matter. Some of us have to deal with the loss of someone who had the privilege of living here for ninety years. Others, like me, didn’t even had the chance to get to know their child better.

But all these people, no matter how old or young they were have value because we loved them. Grief is love you can’t give away. And though I found things to give my time and attention to, though there are still four children in my home who need my attention, still there is also this deep love for this specific beautiful little girl that only lived in my belly. And I miss her. My God, how I miss her. I pray more and more that God will bring my greetings and love to her. Again surprised that I do these things since her passing. It helps a little.

Now that the children go back to school, I need to get used again to this empty house, although it is exactly the same as before the holiday started. I have to get used again to a life with only big children who go to school, and work waiting for me. She would have been able to walk by now. We would have brought the kids to school together and then walk back at a slow pace. She would have noticed everything around her, every detail on the street. I would have taught her how to function in this world, step by step.

But I walked home alone and this deep feeling of missing her, an intense pain, came over me. I go to God with it and it comforts me that she is well and on the best place. But the missing remains, hurts, and I still need to learn to live with that. I actually don’t know how to do that. So I go back to work.

This blog was first published in Dutch on September 5, 2018

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