Sunday, April 26, 2009

Silence

There's been silence in this space for the last 10 days, probably the longest I've gone without writing since I created this blog. Its not that there are not words, I just need them to be in my head for now.

To all those friends whose calls I haven't returned, or whose emails have taken days to get a response, I'm sorry. I just need some space to myself right now. Dealing with the outside world, even loving friends and family, takes a lot of emotional energy when you're grieving. I know a lot of people assume I'm "better" because I'm taking on so much at work, able to be social and smile throughout my work day. I am able to laugh again, and mean it. But just functioning in this way takes every ounce of my energy, leaving me so very depleted for what is most healing, which is time to myself (for writing, reading, reflection, yoga) and time with David.

I can feel the grief changing, but in reality, I am changing, on almost a molecular level. I will never be the same person I was before losing Ezra. I carry with me a layer of sadness even when I am happy. The things that used to bring me the most joy, like pregnant friends and tiny babies, bring me terror, anxiety, jealousy, pain. Whereas before I was self-confident and outgoing, I am fragile now, needing the people around me to be so much more attentive to my cues as to whether I can handle a topic of conversation or not, want to talk or don't want to talk....and when people fail to follow those cues I crumble afterwards in disappointment and tears. And though I don't talk about it much, my feelings of failure and shame around losing Ezra follow me everywhere I go. I miss my son every moment of every day - even when to the outside observer it might seem he's the last thing on my mind. I know deeply in my heart that all of this will never change - I am changed forever.

I feel a disconnect with so many of my friends and family, even those who have tried their hardest to prop me up and show me love on this journey - sometimes it is clumsy love but I do know its love. I have felt anger and disappointment at friends and family who haven't been able to be there in the ways I need...and yet I understand that this loss and its aftermath are so horrific, so devastating, that I may be asking too much. My intent is forgiveness...and I know my heart will follow.

I know I am also changing in positive ways. It used to be so hard for me to admit that anything positive could come from Ezra's death. I am a more compassionate person. I am more attentive to all the sadness and pain around me, and more attentive than ever to bringing healing to all I can. I am redefining community in such meaningful ways, particularly my amazing babylost community. I am more spritual, more connected to the universe. I love deeper.

For now there may be silence. I need to figure out for myself what it means to move forward in the world now that Ezra is dead...my hopes and dreams as I imagined them are dead. I need space to hope new hopes and dream new dreams.

24 comments:

Lea said...

What a heartfelt post. So honest... thank you for that.

Silence is so okay. I relate so much to your feelings of walking, working, playing through life now with a smile on my face, yet always having a dull ache not far beneath the surface.

Do what you need to do to manage your way through this unimaginable journey. Strength to you.

Paige said...

This is a beautiful post, Sarah. I feel your pain through your words and the confusion and complication that this new life has brought to you. I'm so sorry.

I read something recently about the bereaved being like ducks, looking smooth and unruffled on the surface but in reality, where no one can see, paddling like hell. That's how I feel at work, in life, like nobody has a clue how hard it is to keep moving.

This sentence, "I need space to hope new hopes and dream new dreams" is amazing, inspiring, like you. xo

erica said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
erica said...

You write about this so well. I feel so strange these days, playing normal so much of the time while still being torn up and grieving inside.

Silence is okay - this space is yours, to write or not to as you need. We're still here for you.

Dani819 said...

I hear you. I said to someone the other day that I am sad and scared every day, but some days I know it and some days I don't That idea of being changed on a molecular level feels exactly right to me, in that so incredibly wrong kind of way.

Love and peace to you today, my dear friend.

Sara said...

Sarah, take the time and space you need. Grieving and changing do take enormous amounts of energy as does negotiating the world while doing so. Gather what little energy you can for healing activities. Whether you are writing here or silent, I will think of you and Ezra and send you healing thoughts and strength.

aliza said...

sarah,
this is so beautiful. so real. and i can relate to so much of what you have written.
continue being true to yourself and listen to what your soul needs.
much love to you

marlon said...

While I can't begin to understand the depth and scope of your grief, I do know enough to understand that there's no rule book for how to experience this. I'm sure that all of your friends understand that you have to work through this however you can... and we'll all be here for you if and when and however you need us. As usual, you and David are in my thoughts and prayers.

Jacinta said...

Sarah, that is truly the way I feel. Thank you for sharing it so beautifully.

Cara said...

Silence is part of the process, and that disconnect can be such a stumbling block.

That is the beauty of what we have here - no one is going anywhere and we will all keep thinking of you even when you are silent.

xoxo

Hope's Mama said...

Sarah this just might be your most profound post yet. So much of this rings true. Once again I sit here again and cry yes, yes, yes.
We all love you Sarah, and we are here for you every step of the way.
I miss all our babies so much.

angie said...

sarah, since i never met you before ezra, let me just say that who you are now is beautiful, honest, kind, compassionate...that sarah today is someone i feel incredibly privileged to know. silence speaks as much as words can. so, your community knows that your silence is a time of contemplation, of reflection, and of depth. it comes from a place of love. we will still be here if you want to share your truth. xoxoxo

Gal aka SuperMommy said...

I am right there with you in the silence - each of our silence and our shared silence. Molecular change is the hardest and most profound work... keep taking care of you. We're here no matter what. Sending you love.

Lani said...

ah, i could have written this myself. you put into words exactly how i'm feeling these days. glad to have you and the other babylost friends to grieve with and share with. breaks are important too. i need them a lot to go inside and figure this whole mess out.

i really can't even believe sometimes that there are actually others out there who feel as broken as me, but you are there.

sending love xo

CLC said...

Sarah- this makes so much sense. I think silence does us all a world of good at one point or another. Like you said, just living takes so much energy you need to preserve whatever you have left.

I'll be here reading whenever you return.

Ya Chun said...

every word rings true. so true.

Monique said...

Sarah, I'm honoured to know you and love you with all my heart. Thinking of you and Ezra.

Rach said...

Sarah,

I am sitting here with you in the silence. So many of us are here, out there being silent but at times screaming on the inside.

I am also so honoured to know you through your writings and emails. You are a wonderful friend, even if I never meet you. I hope though that one day I will.

Sweet Ezra is never far from my thoughts. xxx

Michele said...

I've had times like that... When I cant/dont want to/wont talk to people... Sometimes you just need that space inside. And that's okay. Be gentle, dear one... Be gentle.

k@lakly said...

Silence is a necessary part of the journey. I think after some time has passed and we have been writing for a while the time comes to step back and look again at yourself and all that has happened. See how you feel, how your heart has healed, or not, how your mind has changed, how your life has changed. For me I needed to reevaluate everything on my own so I could find my voice again. I still have to do it, even now.

I think we all become more vulnerable and more in need of space because our grief is so consuming. Even the 'no pressure' from those closest feels like pressure to become again who you were and we all know that is the thing that will never happen again. and it is a part of the grief that is hardest for those closest to us to understand. There is no getting over this, only learning to live with it and with ourselves as we are now, not as we used to be.
Take the time you need. We'll be here, always.

Molly said...

Thank you for your post. I've been thinking about these issues so much lately. It does take so much energy to be sociable and we have to do what feels right to us in the moment. Hang in there.

Sophie said...

Sarah, take care of yourself. I hope you find some peace. Thinking of you.

xx

Tracey said...

Oh you have a beautiful way of expressing yourself - so heartfelt, real and true. Hugs to you.

Dalene said...

Please be gentle with yourself on this difficult journey.