The Grief Effect

Tomorrow will be 20 months since we lost our son. While I'm sure that seems like a long time to some, when it comes to child loss, that is barely the blink of an eye. In many ways, I think I am just now starting to come out of the fog. I think back over the past 20 months, and so much of that time is hazy and vague to me. Much of it I can't recall at all. And while the pain still feels just as fresh, I have learned to deal with it better, and for the most part, I can keep it hidden from the world.
That's the part of child loss that I think most people don't understand. 95% of it is unseen. If grieving parents walked around showing the world the emotions they were truly feeling all the time, we would be locked away in a psych ward in a second. The emotional turmoil is constant, and ever changing. One minute you could be remembering your child with joy and laughter, the next you could be cursing the Heavens. Anything can trigger a strong reaction, and while you may be able to stifle some of them, others will bring you to your knees.
Anger is a big one for me. I have to really struggle sometimes not to scream at people for what would seem like nothing. A careless remark or a casual complaint can catch me off guard and send me into a fit of rage. Many times I have to walk away until I can calm down, or remove myself from the situation, in order to avoid acting on these feelings. I have to carefully consider invitations and social gatherings now, before I accept. I have to be sure that I always have an escape route in case I start feeling overwhelmed. Things I used to love have now become situations ripe with triggers, and I find myself dreading events that once brought me so much joy. People who I once found merely tedious are now nearly intolerable, and people who I once adored have now become strangers. There is not one aspect of my life that hasn't been effected by my Grief. My past, my present, and my future have been permanently altered. I once dreamed of a day when I would see my son find true love, and dance with him at his wedding. Of a day when I would hold in my arms a grandchild with his/her daddy's mischievous eyes. Now I will never know what it feels like to do those things. I will never see my son celebrate his 21st, 30th, or 50th birthdays. I will never hold my husband's hand and watch with pride as our son teaches his son to ride a bike, or dance with his daughter.
Parents who lose a child are not just grieving for what we lost, but also for what we never had a chance to gain. Each day, as we see our friends and loved ones with their children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren, we are reminded again and again of what will never be for us. Each birthday party, wedding, anniversary, and birth, are milestones that were taken from us, and taken from our child.
The raw pain and unfairness of it all is something we live with every moment of our lives. It doesn't heal. It doesn't form a scar. It is a continuously reopened wound. Even moments of happiness are really just bittersweet moments. Joys that we wish more than anything that we could share with our child.
This is the unseen reality of child loss. This is the ugly truth that lives within each grieving parent. This is the Grief Effect, and this is my life now...