Many of us spend our whole lives running from feeling pain with the mistaken belief that you can’t bear the pain. But, you have already borne the pain. What you have not done is feel all you are beyondthe pain. (St. Bartholomew)
This is the essence of renewal: discovering all that you are (or can become) after the pain crystallizes in your mind. Decisions on how you want to live your life going forward. What is truly important?
Going forward. How does one move forward when faced with tragedy? It’s a difficult road to navigate, to be sure. I have borne the pain of losing not one, but two of my sons. I am struggling with what’s beyond the pain.
Creating art was at the core of my being when I lost my first son. I dealt with the pain by giving up my art.
Sometimes we are not logical when it comes to grief and loss. I punished myself. How could I continue with my art when my baby was gone?
It’s taken the loss of David to realize I have yet to navigate past the grief. Like child-birth, the pain of loss is mine and mine alone.
Working my way through the past six months has been like walking through a thick fog.
A fog so thick that even though I know my hand is attached to my arm – I can’t see it when I wiggle my fingers in front of my face.
A fog so thick I can’t hear those around me, just the muffled waa waaa waa waaa of far away voices.
I am alone in this world of grief, even when I am in the company of those who share it.
I have been shying away from writing about my grief. It’s my last connection to the child I no longer hold. Like my art, I all but gave up my writing. I had now lost not one, but two of my children, how could I continue with my writing?
I somehow didn’t deserve to do something I enjoyed so much. I didn’t deserve to feel life beyond the pain of loss.
This pain is something to hold on to, a reason not to move forward. Grief has become a reason to stagnate, to remain idle while those around me move forward.
I don’t want to remain idle any longer.
Of course, the pain of losing a child is not something you can turn off. It’s something you work through. You talk about it, you write about it.
You share it. I give a piece of my pain to each of you to carry for me, in the hopes that I can move forward.
I need to move forward.
I need to feel life beyond the pain. I know the pain will never completely leave me, there will always be moments that bring me to my knees.
Those are the moments I need to write about, to share. Moments when you run into another mom around town and she asks where the baby is. Moments when you have to talk about how your baby died. Moments when there are anniversaries to mark and birthdays to remember.
*sigh*
Going forward is not going to be easy, but I’m ready.
I can’t wait to discover the me that’s been waiting to get out.
How do you deal with emotional pain? Do you run from it? Ignore it? Succumb to it? Do you think grief can be the catalyst for positive change in a person’s life?
This is an original World Moms Blog post by Amy Hillis. Amy has been on hiatus since the passing of her youngest son in January. She is can be found on her personal blog, Transplanted Thoughts, Facebook and Twitter.
Photo credit to the author.
Amy Hillis (USA)
Amy is a native Chicagoan that currently resides just outside of Cincinnati, OH. A city girl, through and through, she’s still adjusting to small town life. Amy has a Bachelor’s degree in Fine Art with a minor in French from Elmhurst College. She was working on her Master’s degree at the School of the Art Institute in Chicago, when she became pregnant with her 3rd child. Although this angel boy was only here for a very short time – he left quite a legacy. Nathaniel was born with a rare genetic disorder called Citrullinemia. Amy and her husband, James, went on to have 4 more boys, 3 of whom were also born with Citrullinemia. In January 2011, her youngest son, David passed away from complications of a liver transplant performed to 'cure' the Citrullinemia. Now a stay-home mom of 5, she started blogging in October 2010, while David was still in the hospital. Two of her other sons have had successful liver transplants to cure their genetic disorders. Her 2 older children still live in Chicago. When not hanging out with her kids, she spends her ‘me’ time writing, sewing, reading & walking. Amy also spends a generous amount of time online. She can be found on Twitter @transplantedx3. On Facebook and on her Website <a href="http://mytearstainedlife.com"My Tear-Stained Life
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I have, in my life, had all kinds of responses to emotional pain. I’ve run, I’ve drowned, I’ve vented, I have gone numb inside. Grief of any kind – whether resulting from someone’s death or a traumatic experience – is a very personal, individualized thing that depends not only on the person, but on the circumstances surrounding the grief.
I think you are very courageous, and I want you to know that am with you every step of the way, just as I was with you in spirit every day when you were at David’s bedside. I gladly carry a piece of your pain for you, so you don’t have to bear it all yourself.
Can grief be a catalyst for positive change? I think that is very possible. As we figure out how to cope with personal tragedy, we can discover all kinds of new things about ourselves, and somehow we find reserves of strength that we never knew we had.
It is so great to have you back. Keep writing, keep sharing. You have an entire community here that is rooting for you.
Kirsten
I have, in my life, had all kinds of responses to emotional pain. I’ve run, I’ve drowned, I’ve vented, I have gone numb inside. Grief of any kind – whether resulting from someone’s death or a traumatic experience – is a very personal, individualized thing that depends not only on the person, but on the circumstances surrounding the grief.
I think you are very courageous, and I want you to know that am with you every step of the way, just as I was with you in spirit every day when you were at David’s bedside. I gladly carry a piece of your pain for you, so you don’t have to bear it all yourself.
Can grief be a catalyst for positive change? I think that is very possible. As we figure out how to cope with personal tragedy, we can discover all kinds of new things about ourselves, and somehow we find reserves of strength that we never knew we had.
It is so great to have you back. Keep writing, keep sharing. You have an entire community here that is rooting for you.
Kirsten
I am so sorry for all your loss and pain. It must be absolutely unbearable some days. I have not lost my own child, but I have lost one of my nieces and the pain was more than I could put into words. Over 8 years later, it still hurts deeply. I have alot of unanswerable questions, anger, heart break and sadness over her loss. At first, I could not live my life as I had before. I was destroyed in many ways. With time, it did get better and because of her, I do live my life more thoughtfully and wiser than before. She never leaves me, but I can think of her without breaking down. There are times when I do cry for her, but I let myself cry for her. We will all grieve for her for the rest of our lives. Having someone who understands this, is very important. Many people want to tell you to move on and they just do not understand. I don’t share my grief with them because they don’t help. I will never move on from her, but I will move on with my life, with her by our side, in our thoughts and dreams. It is a hard process and has no time limit.
One thing that helps me is when I think of true love and what that means. When you truly love someone, you want the best for them. It pains you to think of them selling themselves short or being anything other than happy. We truly love the child we lost, as they truly love us in return. Reverse the situation and I would want my loves to have a good life. In return, all we can do is keep the person who is gone, with us. We honor them by doing good things, learning from them, and helping others. That keeps us together. Now, I have heard similar things before, bt it has finally resonated with me. I get it and it makes perfect sense.
Thank you for being so open with your own experience with grief, I like the idea of honoring them by doing good things. I’m ready to do good things!
Amy,
You’ve been through so much, and I’m so glad that you are writing again. Thank you for sharing your internal thoughts with us. I am growing as a person by reading your stories.
How do I deal with emotional pain…I tend to want to be alone for some time before I can re-emerge, so I can be alone with my thoughts.
And, yes, I think that grief, any difficulties that we may face in life, can be catalyst for change in a person’s life. I think they can provide the motivation that we wouldn’t have otherwise to make those changes. At least, that is the case in from my own experiences.
Keep doing what you’re doing, and I’m so glad that you are back. And, congrats on having your blog accepted into the Blogher Network!
Jen 🙂
Thank you, Jen! I’m happy to be back.It feels good to be writing!
Amy,
I am glad that you are back writing. I agree with the ladies comments above that even though you’ve endured more pain than one should ever feel, you can indeed bring a positive outlook to the rest of your life. You are a mother to living children, you will always be a role model for them. The way you handle and manage your grief is teaching your children how a person that has traumatic experience can live beyond the pain.
As a fellow art enthusiast, I hope that your passion for art gets ignited again. Frida Kahlo endured much hardship in her life, she conveyed her pain through her art. I hope for you that you will allow yourself to enjoy your life again and that you will find your way back to what makes you happy.
Courtney – what an excellent example – Frieda Khalo did an extraordinary job of turning physical & emotional pain into art, I have an opportunity to exhibit some of my work at a local gallery that just opened, so I think that may be the kick I need to find my way back to my studio.
I just found this site. I am glad that this is one of the first posts I have read here.
I have two close friends who have lost children, one to SIDS, one at age 10 from health to gone in less than 2 months.
I have also been working as a nurse in oncology for the past 9 months, having moved there after 15 years in the ER.
As to your question about the pain. Initially you do whatever the heck you need to do to keep breathing. Run from it, ignore it, succumb to it-whatever. Cry until you can’t cry any longer and then cry some more.
At some point you have to make the decision as to what it is you need to do in life, taking into account the horrible pain you feel and the loss you continue to feel. Do you want to give up? Do you want to impact? Do you want to use the talents you were given to inspire others? Do you just want to get by until you too die?
From your words, it seems to me that you are at the stage where you do want to use your pain to help heal you and in doing so be a living inspiration for others. Finding yourself does not mean you are forgetting your son, it means you are honoring his life and his memory.
I am so glad you returned to writing and I hope you find some small comfort in that and in your art.
Hugs
I just found this site. I am glad that this is one of the first posts I have read here.
I have two close friends who have lost children, one to SIDS, one at age 10 from health to gone in less than 2 months.
I have also been working as a nurse in oncology for the past 9 months, having moved there after 15 years in the ER.
As to your question about the pain. Initially you do whatever the heck you need to do to keep breathing. Run from it, ignore it, succumb to it-whatever. Cry until you can’t cry any longer and then cry some more.
At some point you have to make the decision as to what it is you need to do in life, taking into account the horrible pain you feel and the loss you continue to feel. Do you want to give up? Do you want to impact? Do you want to use the talents you were given to inspire others? Do you just want to get by until you too die?
From your words, it seems to me that you are at the stage where you do want to use your pain to help heal you and in doing so be a living inspiration for others. Finding yourself does not mean you are forgetting your son, it means you are honoring his life and his memory.
I am so glad you returned to writing and I hope you find some small comfort in that and in your art.
Hugs
Hi Amy,
I am deeply sorry for your loss. Grief and pain truly speaks to the heart of mothers, when we lose our children.
Writing helped me, and has continued to help me. The pain never goes away, however, we do get to a place where we can exhale fully without losing ourselves…
I pray that you will have brighter days, and finding solace in art and creativity is a bonus.
Hi Amy,
I am deeply sorry for your loss. Grief and pain truly speaks to the heart of mothers, when we lose our children.
Writing helped me, and has continued to help me. The pain never goes away, however, we do get to a place where we can exhale fully without losing ourselves…
I pray that you will have brighter days, and finding solace in art and creativity is a bonus.
Amy, thanks for your open and honest post. I hope that the days become easier as time passes.