Imagine a towering wall of cement blocks in front of you. It stands between you and your child. You know they are there on the other side, but you can’t see them. No matter how loud the scream, you can’t hear them. You try everything you can to break that wall down. Pushing. Pounding your fists. Angrily smashing objects against it. Desperately thrashing to exhaustion. It won’t budge. The wall stands unscathed.
This is child loss. It’s exhausting constantly banging on the wall. Mentally. Physically draining. This is grief.
Wishing for anything to knock down the wall that separates you, even for a moment. It’s all you want, but no matter what you do that wall is stronger than you will ever be. You are defeated. No amount of adrenaline can help. The only way you know to get through that wall is the same way they went through it. The easy way. Death is not really your wish, but it is. It becomes your day dream. Getting you through your days. One day closer.
Why? What if? The movie of the end plays like a broken record.
Life keeps going on. People all around you. Why is no one helping? Can’t they see this wall?
Why won’t this wall break down?
I hate this wall.
2 Comments on “This Is What Child Loss Feels Like”
I also hate the wall. But I must tell you…I’ve drafted a comment for this post only not to send it in…in that draft, I admit I hate the wall…that all I need to feel better is to hold my baby again….and I said that ‘my cure is my curse’. If ONLY I could hold him (my cure), I’d be fine. But I can’t (my curse).
I was very upset. As I often am.
And that very night, my baby came to me in my dreams. I could feel him and even smell him. I was able to hold him and love on him and even show him off to others. My handsome man. I woke up so proud of him. He came to comfort me.
The wall is solid, I know. But sometimes, there is a veil we can see through.
It made a world of difference to me that although I cannot break the wall…my little Punkin found a way through it to me.
Happy dreaming.
I love this!! You are right, there is a veil. We can’t always see it, but sometimes they can find a way back through to bring comfort. Thanks for sharing. XO