I’ve been through a lot of feelings since Maddison’s passing to now. A bit like all the emotions you could ever feel, all jumbled up trying to find their place within my own mind, resembling a 5,000 piece jigsaw puzzle that you so badly want to achieve but know it will take a lot of patience and time to get there. Despite the fact that this puzzle will always have a piece missing, I’m starting with the edges, looking for those 4 pieces that have two solid straight sides to which I can call my foundations, strong enough to build upon.
What do those 4 corners represent I can hear you asking. Well, they are my bad days. It may have only been 3 months but I’m not ashamed to admit that there are more ‘good’ days now than there are bad ones, although each good day still brings at least one episode of tear jerkers or a breaking heart moment. However, 3 months down the line from the most traumatic experience of my life and I am starting to enjoy life again. Recently I’ve begun to ask myself why. I thought overall, losing a child would make me care so little about myself that all I could imagine was leaving this life to be with her again (don’t get me wrong, there’s been some questionable moments) but on the whole I feel far from that. It is true that we do not know how we will react in times of despair, and every single person is different. However, just before losing Maddison, I was in a good place. I had worked really hard on focusing my mental health towards positivity because I was adamant I wanted to be a good mum and to do that I had to learn how to love myself so that I could care and nourish her in the best possible way. Call me crazy, but I believe it to have had a long-standing effect that it’s now become my survival guide after losing her. I want to be the best mother to Maddison more than ever now and the fact that she isn’t physically here to receive all the love I have to give to her means I have to work twice as hard. This is where those 4 corner bad days come into play.
When I wake up in a bad mood or feel that I’m questioning every part of the world, I take the time to be sad. I drive to Maddison’s grave usually at some point throughout that day and I just cry (I visit her on the happy days too!). Usually I have Jason to lean on and he doesn’t ask me much just lets me be, because he has these days too so we just know. I find that the few times whereby I have really held back the tears or put on a brave face, it’s caused me twice as much stress a few days later, so slowly I am learning to accept them, and because I do, I allow myself to let the sunshine in sometimes too. Maddison deserves a loving and happy family, whether she’s in our arms or not, there is never a day that goes by whereby we aren’t blessed to have her.
I wanted to write this to get my feelings out (as usual ey?) but also to those that have walked in these shoes, and sadly the ones in the future who don’t know what to expect. Some day they may find themselves in search of words that will let them know this will be the hardest path they’ll ever walk, but that they might just be ok if they let nature take its course and accept the emotions that come with it. I can’t give advice on this, it’s not something you can truly prepare another person for, as unfortunately nobody truly will understand this feeling unless they’ve been there – but I’d never want them to. However, if ever there were any ‘right’ words to give, I can only tell you it helps to talk, to breathe, to believe in the future, to hold on tight to hope and to live the bad days. Things often knock me completely out of the blue, whether it be a newborn babies cry, a place I visited when pregnant, even a word here and there that means more than someone would ever realise, and I find myself giving myself little pep talks – I wish I didn’t have to, but at least they make me feel better and hopefully more accepting of the ‘real world’ that I do actually belong within.