When Ava died, it shocked me that the despicable things that people would say only served to exacerbate and prolong the agony I was in. It was death by a thousand paper cuts, “do you have any children?” “How many kids do you have?” “Well, surely you are over it by now?” “Are you going to have any more children?”
I became accustomed to crying everywhere; to feeling the raw searing pain of my child’s loss in the most public and private of moments. I break down in cars, stores, offices, parks, parties, I am bereaved. Sometimes the most innocent of moments that set me off and other times it is at the sheer cruelty of others. The people that surround me became the biggest impact of my grief.
In the early days of grief I found it impossible to believe I would ever enjoy the company of others again. I was surrounded and held up by the love of those around me but yet I could not imagine a day where every moment I would not be waiting for the daggers of cruelty to knock me down. My distrust in people only grew. I had a select group of people I could let in, whom had proven they were capable of standing on the edge of the rings of Hell with me and not tire of the heat. This select group of people became my warriors, my army of women (mostly), my strongholds when I simply could bear no more.
The leader of which is Jane *name changed for privacy reasons.*
I could write an entire blog about what Jane’s friendship has meant to me in the last 7 years. She is the Mama Warrior, the leader, the soft place when everything falls. She is compassion, drive and an bottomless pool of hope. Here is simply the latest example of the blessings she has brought me.
Jane has organized a Garden Party in my honour to help surround me with the love and strength needed in this harrowing journey of pregnancy after loss. She has gathered the strongest women in my life, a battle cry of such, to celebrate and to continue their support…of me.
I am speechless. I am humbled. Gratitude overflowed.
If you had told me a year ago right now, I would have ever felt “blessed” again, I never would have believed it. Blessed is how I feel. Humbled and blessed. I do not know how I came to have women like Jane in my life, however, I am ever so very grateful to have them. Grateful for this outpouring of consideration and kindness, for the place to grief safely and for the strength I glean from them. I can look back now and see the moments that I have been carried through grief and the moments I have walked in unison with the beloveds in my life, not nearly as alone as I felt. Blessed.