Sometimes, I find myself reading posts from Moms that are at the very beginning of their loss journey and my heart aches for them. The pangs of deepest agony that ring throughout their words can easily bring me back to those very moments myself. I wish there were magic words or spells that could take some of what they are feeling away. Yet, what I have learned is that the only way those days, weeks, months and years can become tolerable is if we wade our way through them.

Some days I remember feeling almost out of body. I walked around as if I were watching my life and not participating in it, because to be fully present in my life meant that I would drown in grief. I felt as if my representative had shown up to take my place for the meeting or the event or even a day or two. She knew how to speak and act like me well enough to fool others but she was not me. I was aware it was happening but never consciously chose it. It probably seems odd to anyone who has never experienced it but for those who have, I suspect there is a tad bit of comfort in the recognition.

Throughout the two decades I have walked this journey, I am grateful that it was only in the beginning that I needed to disconnect in that way. That is not to say the pain disappears, oh how I wish I could tell you that after 5 years or 10 or 15 or even 20 there is never any pain, but that would be untrue. What I can say, in my experience, is that the times when the pain is so great we have to check out to survive, grow more and more infrequent with time and effort.

I have learned that losing Kendall is simply a part of me. It is an important part, a forever part, an authentic and key part, but now only a part. I still cry sometimes. I still wonder what might have been. And I believe I always will. I am his Mom, forever changed by carrying him within me and changed even more greatly by having to say goodbye without ever seeing his face or holding him.

I am his Mom, even though most others do not see that within me or define me in that way. My love for him opened up a space of joy that I never imagined possible and my grief over his loss cracked me open in a place that nothing else ever has. And in those first weeks and months and years I lived in that dark place. It overshadowed any light or love. The grief and pain so overwhelming that checking out was the only option most times.

But today, it is not like that.

Today, the loss and pain are only a part of who I am. I live with gratitude for Kendall and exactly how our journey went. I am a kinder human and a more spiritual one because of the connection I have with him and what I have chosen to allow to grow in that space. I am a more supportive friend when someone I know suffers loss and I use my voice when others’ voices are unheard or they are unable to find their own. All of this is in part because of Kendall.

Yet, if you had told me way back then that I would ever write or speak these things, I would have raged against you. I would have known you simply did not understand and been so hurt by the callousness and cluelessness of the idea that I would one day have gratitude and peace. I may not know exactly how you feel as you are starting your own journey but what I do know is in that dark place, where only your representative can show up, you have no idea what beauty can and will be found once you are safe enough to begin to peek out.

But there is no rush. Grieve. Cry. Scream. Hide. Cry again. Wander. Isolate. Write. Read. Cry some more. Ask for help. Seek support. Cry, yet again. Please do what you need to do when it is all too much to understand and navigate. Then, in your own time, in your own way, begin to peek out. Start looking and listening to who and what are around you.

Because when you are ready you will see and hear there can still be love and beauty in the world. It will never be as you hoped or imagined but it is there. Mostly because you are there, you and the memory and spirit of your baby are there. It will never be pain free but it will also never be as hard and dark and scary as it is now.

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Beth Ann Morhardt

Beth Ann Morhardt is an Empowerment Specialist, specializing in domestic violence and its impact on children and parenting. She is Mom to an angel baby named Kendall who she lost via miscarriage in 1998. After much grief and healing work, soul searching and deep reflection she chose not to have other children. While this was often misunderstood by others as a reaction to losing Kendall, for her it was an empowered decision based in love. Being a Mom with no living children allows her to be available and open to being the proud aunt to two of the coolest kids on the planet (and that is not in any way bias, it is simply true). As she navigated the grief and healing journey of Kendall’s loss she was inspired to dig deeper under the pain and begin to look at all areas of her life in which she could live more truthfully. Through this Beth Ann chose to speak of childhood sexual abuse she survived and kept silent about for over thirty years. This choice has allowed her to walk in authenticity and healing in ways she never imagined, never mind hoped for. Walking in authenticity and truth is not always easy. Often the path looks more like an obstacle course than a paved walkway but there is no greater feeling at the end of the day than knowing you lived each moment present and authentically. Read more on her blog, Indeeditistime.

Latest posts by Beth Ann Morhardt (see all)

• Sharing My Truth - August 27, 2019
• Giving Back - April 1, 2019
• One Day, It Will Feel Safe To Begin To Peek Out & Explore - February 18, 2019