Today Enoch would be six months old. I keep thinking, “I should have a six month old.” I don’t. That’s hard… six months later it’s still devastatingly hard.
At this point most people have moved on and have expected me to as well. If I’m honest, I assumed I would be further along in grief as well. Not that I would be “over it.” I can’t imagine my heart will ever stop desperately wanting to see or hold my son again. That will always be there.
I assumed I would be functioning at full capacity again in six months. I’m not. In addition, grief brain causes me to see all parts of life through the lens of grief. When your baby dies there’s a whole new perspective, every day, all the time.
- I still regularly write and think, “my baby died.”
- When I see a little baby, I still can’t help but think “that’s what a living baby looks like.”
- My brain can’t seem to hold multiple things in it at one time, as it once did.
- There are days I still take off work because the grief takes over, and there is no point in attempting to be productive.
- I’m constantly on guard with movies because picking one that isn’t all about family or doesn’t have the loss of a baby/child in it is much more difficult than you would expect.
- I still sleep with a pair of his pants on my night stand or in bed with me, even though I know he would have outgrown them by now.
- Monday’s are hard because as I write my to do list, so many things seem meaningless.
- I still don’t get into petty arguments with people because in the grand scheme of things, they don’t matter.
Six months later it’s still all at the surface. Yes, the breathtakingly hard days are further in between one another, but pretty much every activity is looked at through the lens of Enoch dying.