I don't even know where to begin.
If I had broken my leg, people would understand and offer support. I lost a piece of my heart and people expect me to just get on with my life. But in actuality, I'm paralyzed. I simply cannot go grocery shopping when I feel like my insides have been shredded into a zillion pieces. I don't know how to plan my Sam's birthday party when I feel like something is missing from the celebration. I can't pretend to care about my clients' problems when they're so irrelevant. Everything seems pointless.
A month ago, my life and my family was beautiful. Now it's missing something. And I feel guilty that I'm dissatisfied. I KNOW I'm blessed to have what I have...an amazing husband and a beautiful son. What kind of wife and mother can I be that I'm not fulfilled by that? I watch my son play with bubbles and think how much fun he would have had showing Alex the bubbles. I watch him cry and think how much I would give to hear Alex cry. I cuddle him in the bed and think about how he promised to, "move over" when Alex came. This is completely insane.
They say that when you have a second child, your love for the first child does not diminish, but you find MORE love to share with the second. They say it's like having a piece of your heart taken out of your chest and giving it legs. They're right. And when that child dies, it's like a piece of your heart dies with him.
Like a broken leg, this is not a part-time injury. I can't pretend it doesn't affect every movement I make. I can't pretend it doesn't hurt like hell. It's never going to be exactly the same as it was...And it's going to take time to heal even a little bit. Unfortunately, unlike a broken leg, there is no visible cast to warn bystanders that I'm injured and hurting. There is no, "six weeks and the cast will come off" diagnosis. There is no prescription for painkillers and bedrest that will make this better.