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I have always thought of myself as a pretty together kind of person.

However, since my precious daughter died, I have been a bumbling mess of a person. Some days I don’t even feel like a person at all! Which is totally reasonable considering the situation. However, I don’t have a clue of what I am supposed to do now!

The last four years I spent advocating for my child in every way possible. I was so used to fighting for her needs that I would fight for things that didn’t require a fight! I woke up each day as a Mom and little else. I was happy with that. I loved that. My whole life revolved around my child first and foremost. She needed me. And now, she does not need me. And I don’t know how to live without her needing me.

Our friends and family are getting up each morning, going to work, coming home, shopping, cooking dinner, etc. They are back to life as normal since Delainie’s death. My husband even has a tiny fraction of normal that he has got back to, in that he has returned to his job. The world around us is turning just as it always does. But, I, however, feel like I am standing still watching it all go by, looking back and wondering exactly where things got so off track.

I am not getting back to “normal”.

I have made a point to max out my social calendar as best as possible because the “quiet” times cut me to the core of sadness. I am fumbling around like a lost teenager who has gone out on her own for the first time, except I am not innocent to the pains of the world, to the struggle.

Sometimes I just sit and stare and wonder what I should do next. I am lonely even around people. I am quiet even when I have things to say. I am broken and I haven’t figured out how to move forward with this brokenness.

Because, let’s be honest, I lost my only child, it’s not likely that this break is going to get fixed. This wound cut through many layers, my body, my mind, my heart, my soul. There is no ‘healing” for a wound like this.

What is more likely is that I will learn to live with this wound. Similar to a person with a slightly noticeable limp, indicative of some old injury that never fully healed. Hopefully, I will not let this disability, this brokenness of my heart, body, mind and soul, limit me from enjoying a meaningful, fulfilling and happy life.

Personally, at this moment, I think that is a freaking lofty goal. But, that is the kind of person I am. I have always set lofty goals and excelled in challenging circumstances. So, perhaps, let’s pray, I will achieve this goal. And perhaps, setting a goal like this is one tiny step, for me, of getting back to “normal”.

To be honest, I sort of just want to fast forward through time, to a place where I am successful living with this brokenness. But that is not reality. I can only succeed at this life goal if I work hard. Somehow I don’t think fast forwarding through life counts as working hard!

I am a jumbled up mess of emotions and scattered thoughts these days. I cry a lot. I try to talk myself into understanding that everything happens for a reason. I try to remember to thank God for the moments I had with my sweet girl. I get angry, lonely and faithless. I let go of anger, fill up my social calendar and find faith when I reminisce of my life with Delainie. When I have joyful moments or great days, I feel guilty because I think it’s inappropriate to be happy or have fun at this juncture. I chastise myself for feeling guilty.

I have been thinking of the way I lived my life before Delainie and I don’t think that there is much that would be fulfilling to me now. Life before Delainie seems so shallow, so monotone and so unexceptional. The life I experienced, through motherhood of my special child, was so much more than I ever knew existed. Once you experience something like that, you can’t go back. Kind of like a skier who loves skiing in Vermont, but goes to Utah to ski and is never truly happy skiing in Vermont again.

The life I had with Delainie is no longer an option. So, the life ahead is, well, it is whatever it ends up being. But it won’t be like anything I have ever experienced before. This I know.

Since I have no clue what I am supposed to do now, I am counting on life to lead me, along with faith, hope and love. I am also hoping for some divine intervention to help me find my future calling. I mean, I am the mother of an angel, after all.