December (Holly)

It is officially December...which is generally my "crawl in a hole" month.

Sometimes I find myself questioning my own grief.  Because it only akes a minut event to kick everything back into full swing.  I can go months without even second glancing over everything.  This is not to say that I ever for a moment forget that I have a  daughter, that she existed.  I just mean that it doesn't seem to affect me, and maybe that is what they mean when they say, "Time heals."  But then I wonder...four years later....does it actually heal?

There are five stages of grief according to Kübler Ross.  I've read a lot abou this theory and I have to say, I completely agree except that, I don't think there is a time limit on each stage or a pattern in which they go in.

Tonight I'm just "in it" as I like to put it. I have random nights where a part of me just isn't here.  I have a scrap book type of thing I've been writing in for the past two years, on nights like these.  Little letters and drawings and such all addressed to Skyler.  But tonight I guess I wanted to blog...touch on these five steps of grief as they pertain to me.

Denial:  I spent about a month in denial.  Even in the hospital I did not cry, did not fret, it just "was."  I remember looking around me, while everyone was holding her, and wondering why they were crying.  Wondering why I wasn't.  I have long since forgiven myself for not crying, for not holding her just five minutes longer....

Anger:  I do have a horrible anxiety issue that manifests outwardly as anger or aggression. But that aside, I skip in and out of this stage quit a bit.  Especially the second year after she passed.  Little things upset me, like, maybe someone else's child that is around what age Skyler should be.  The child itself does not upset me. What I find myself thinking is, "How dare God take her first steps away from me?" or "She never had a first word, or first steps."  And those types of things anger me. They boil in my stomach and they eat me alive.

Bargaining:  For me, I think this stage was even before Skyler died.  I began trying to bargain with God the day that we found out about the omphalocele. Honestly, when Iowa City called and said all the amnio results came back normal, I thought God and I had a deal.

Depression:  Ah depression.  This is a monster I have battled since I was a child.  For over a year after Skyler died I was depressed.  I spent a lot of time in my bed, not moving, not thinking, barely alive.  I also spent a lot of time intoxicated.  I was going out during the week and spending the entire weekends drunk.  I was a horrible mess. Between the alcohol and the depression..... I do not remember a lot of that time, and I am grateful for that but I am also incredibly saddened that other people in my life had to see it.  After I moved to Cedar Rapids, Tim slowly began to break me out of the shell I had formed.  I think the one thing that really turned me around though was Tinkerbell.  Tinkerbell was my saving light.  She is a pit bull that we rescued from a horrible home where she was being used as a bait dog.  After we brought her home, I just knew she had found me for a reason.  She saved my life.

Lastly we come to Acceptance......

Oh acceptance.....

Is it possible to ever really accept the death of your child?  I'm not sure it is.  To me acceptance says "it is what it is" or "it's okay now."   I don't think I'll ever feel that way.  If there is some sort of "okay" stage... I think I might fit in there most of the time. I accept that I have a daughter, that she was still born, I accept that I the kicks, movements and ultrasounds are the only memories I will have of her alive. At least I am lucky enough to have those memories. 

But I don't think I will ever accept that I had to bury my child, I will never be "okay now."

Avril Lavigne - Slipped Away