My daughter had her beautiful son last week. He has red hair and I’m sure his daddy’s amazing blue eyes. I’ll never meet him, my daughter, or her 4 other children. I’m thrilled for her. I’m broken inside. Another loss to add to the mountain that is sitting on me.
I thought she’d meet me once. Just that one time. It was not to be. Accepting this is a lot like death. My death. I’m struggling so much. I’m trying to act brave , but , to those that do love me I’m not fooling anyone.
My heart hurts. It literally hurts. We will see what the echo shows. Honestly, I don’t care. I’ve been extremely ill as has my elderly mother. I’m keeping busy but that’s my MO. Push it all away and it will work out. It won’t. She never wants to meet me ever.
Time isn’t healing the wound of losing your first child. She’s alive and happy and raising her family and I’m so grateful for that. I need to accept the facts my brain knows but my heart is too broken to accept.
The stress of this is literally killing me and it won’t be much of a loss. I’m obviously not needed by anyone. Doctors and tests clutter my week and I simply exist. I just made homemade soup. “I’m fine”.
Tell her I loved her since before she was born if I’m not here. Tell her I’m sorry I believed I wasn’t enough. Tell her I’ve thought of a million ways to have fought them better now. Hug her just once for me. Tell her my name.