What a difference a year can make.

Last year at this time,
despite having been back to work
for two months
and about on my way
to a 6-week vacation,
I was sad.

I remember so well
anger, no, make that rage
low energy
lack of concentration
intense grief

all of these things
and more
that made up
what my life became after losing

Thing have been getting better,
not always progressively,
but I can see now
there has been a pattern.

brother has been helping
me through my darkest moments.

I only wish all babyloss mamas
could get pregnant
and have as many
healthy babies as they wanted
after a loss.

Not to replace a child,
but to mend a heart.


It occurred to be in Danish class
last night,
that I am actually enjoying
work and my “extracurricular” activities.

I feel like I can accomplish things,
and still have a social life.

I feel like
I am living,
instead of just breathing.

I am starting to feel
“normal” again.

At least,
a new normal.

I never expected that.

if you had asked me a year ago,
I would have been sure
I would never feel good again.

That I would never
experience true joy again.

And now I realize that,
while it’s different,
I am happy.

I appreciate things in a different way.
I empathize more.
I love more.


At work
we did an exercise
where we had to share
what we felt was our
most valuable personal strength.

I said,
“keeping things in perspective.”

My fellow colleagues
wholeheartedly agreed with me
(I didn’t know they noticed).

has put my life in perspective.

My children are the most important
thing in the world to me.

Followed by family
and friends.

Followed by doing my part
to make the world better
(tall order – still trying to figure that out).

Followed by work.

That doesn’t mean I don’t
value work
or do my best.
It just means
that I refuse to get stressed
about a so-called problem
that in the large scheme of things


These things matter much more.

These are the things that make me happy.
Give my life meaning.
Make it worth it to go on
after losing


Yet it doesn’t disappear.

The sadness.

Tom wrote me a text message yesterday
while I was at work.

“Hi honey. I just took a walk to visit Malou. They already decorated for Christmas. :)”

(The cemetery covers the ground around the gravestones with lovely pine branches for winter)

I wrote back,
“That’s fantastic, honey. 🙂 I’m so glad to hear that. Now I can get started on my own decorations for her.”

(I want to buy some poinsettias and buy or make a few Christmas decorations for her too)

Despite the smiley-faces,
as I was writing back,
I became sad.

Is this all there is?
Is this all I can do for my daughter?
How do I live knowing that
all I can do to show her my love
is make her grave pretty?

I want to dress her up
in a beautiful Christmas dress
and watch her toddle around
the Christmas tree.

I want to buy her toys
that I know she’d love,
because I’d know her.
I’d know what she loves.

I don’t want to go to her grave,
bring her flowers
and light her candles,
knowing that it’s more for me,
than for her.

Published in: on November 18, 2009 at 09:05  Comments (2)  
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2 CommentsLeave a comment

  1. I think making her grave pretty is just an expression of how much you love Malou. It isn’t a representation of how little you can do for her because you are doing the most important thing in the world. You love your daughter day in and day out.

  2. Thanks, Am. That’s a good way to look at it.

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