For some five years is a long time. For others it’s a passing of time. A marker of time. A reality that no longer is a new reality but the reality of what God gave you for the time being.
When the doctor told me five years ago that my son was no longer here with me. That he was no longer living I didn’t really know what I was letting myself in for or the journey I’d embark on. I didn’t know what lay ahead of me. I think it was a question of disbelief. Was he really gone? I couldn’t really believe the doctors. I was begging them to do something. I still had a glimmer of hope. But with each passing hour that glimmer of hope faded. I honestly don’t know what kept me going in those dark moments.
I am 29 now and when I look back I think I was brave, I was courageous with what I had to face. At 24, single, alone and having to give birth to a dead baby was more than anyone could ask of a 24 year old. I was very much isolated. I think around the time of my son’s death I started becoming more withdrawn and socially anxious. For a long time I felt unworthy and like a failure. I couldn’t stop thinking I let Sebastian down. I let my parents down. I was alone. To face grief is hard, to have a husband/wife it makes things easier. To do it alone is rough because there is no one you can share your grief with who will understand the pain you through.
It was the unknown that scared me the most. The fear of being trapped by grief. Ironically, I am trapped more by my own insecurities and lack of worth than by the grief.
The loss of losing my son has changed me. I am not who I was five years ago or six years ago when I was fine socialising. Life sort of stopped after Sebastian died. I changed. My sister used to say she misses the old me. The fun me. I miss that part too.
But with time, age and years gone by wisdom fills it’s place. Life moves forward but the days around my son’s death and birth will always be hard. I love Sebastian and that will never stop.
And I always wonder will my biological family remember? They never mention it. And that hurts.
The only question I have left is will i ever become a wife again? A mother again? Will God give me another chance or have I missed my opportunity?
Remember – you _are_ worthy. You may not think you are. You may not _feel_ you are, but God knows you are.
Remember – God so loved Hannah Fairchild, that He gave His only begotten Son, that as Hannah believes in Him she may not perish (or even drown in grief, failure and regret) but have eternal life.
And that eternal life started some years back for you.
Just over fifty years ago for me.
Ok, tell me to shut up. I shall. For now.
But it still holds.
For you. For me. For ‘whoever believes in Him’
While you’re remembering everything else, remember that.