Grieving Differently

When Alma died, Jayze and I drove home from the doctor's office, both of our faces streaked with tears. We were shocked. We were sad. We couldn't believe that it had happened to us.

But at the same time, I remember that deep down inside I was unbelievably calm. How did that happen?

Members of our Relief Society came and brought us dinner. A couple of the wonderful ladies I worked with came to bring us food and words of comfort. Jayze and I had priesthood blessings given to us that same day. Jayze's sister and brother-in-law came over and brought us flowers and food. And it seemed as each visitor came, I found myself wanting to comfort them. They were there to comfort me and all I could feel was that everything was going to be okay. I now know that 100% of my calm feelings was because of the many prayers said in our behalf. I had never felt that feeling before then, but it was oh so good.

After Alma was born and his memorial service was over, Jayze and I came back to Rexburg ready to go back to work. I look back now and think how in the heck did we do that? How did we just up and go back to work a couple of weeks after we lost our only child? I think we were both on the same page and just wanted to push the grief away a few more days. It didn't seem right to stay at home and be depressed all the time. We both felt the need to stay busy and not dwell on what had happened.

Later though, grief hit and it hit hard.

I got angry easily. I got sad easily. My outlook was gloomy. Some Sundays I didn't want to go to church. Some days I didn't want to go to school. Some days I didn't want to go to work. Some days I didn't want to even get out of bed. Or make dinner. Or do the laundry. Or focus on homework.

Some days all I wanted to do was sit in Alma's bedroom and cry while holding his blue blanket, wishing with all my heart that it was him I was holding instead. The crib was empty. His clothes were all boxed up. There was no baby clutter anywhere, no evidence at all outside of that room that we had had a baby at all. Even my body healed super fast from the labor and delivery. I barely had any stretch marks, my tummy became flat again, and exercise was easier than I thought it would be after having a baby. I also lost weight fast because I didn't really have much of an appetite. It seemed I had been robbed of even the memory of carrying our precious bundle of joy.

And what became even harder was that Jayze and I grieved differently. We were patient with each other those first few weeks, but when grief hit things got harder. It seemed like some days we couldn't connect and we would go to bed feeling even more frustrated and sadder than ever. It was emotionally exhausting and incredibly hard to look forward and have an eternal perspective. I was caught in the here and now and couldn't shake the fact that my arms were heavy, my heart was aching, and my emotions were on edge all the time. I had a breakdown almost every day. Bathroom stalls on campus became my best friends.

To get that eternal perspective back and to help with my grieving I began researching like crazy. I researched stillborns. One of my friends sent me a link to a woman's blog who had been through something similar as me. Once I read hers, I searched for more like it. And I found as I read other blogs or other people's experiences, I found that we ALL grieve differently. There were some experiences I could relate to better than others, but it all finally made sense. It's okay to grieve differently. Grief is so broad. Sometimes I am at one stage of the grieving process and I can relate better to someone I couldn't relate to when I was at a different stage.

Learning about grief has helped me realize that I don't have to let it win. I don't have to constantly be a victim of it. I accept that it's always going to be a part of my life now, but I don't have to let it be my constant companion. I can do hard things and I can be happy now.

Jayze and I will never "get over" the loss of our child. Grief is always there to remind us of what we're missing out on. But what we've tried to do is not let the loss of Alma break us apart. We are an eternal, forever and ever family and it started the moment Jayze and I knelt together and were sealed in the Snowflake, AZ LDS Temple. We want to someday raise Alma together.

Even though life happens and it's hard, we can let our trials refine us. We can hang on to that eternal perspective; realize better things are ahead; and as hard as it is sometimes, never.give.up.

We can hang on to our Savior, because He knows exactly how each of us feels. He knows how I grieve and He can be there to comfort me when I feel completely alone and feel like no one else seems to quite understand.

Looking back, losing Alma did a number on our marriage. But the ups and downs (that still happen) have changed Jayze and me for the better. We want our eternal marriage more than ever because we know someone on the other side is waiting for us. He is cheering us on and doesn't want us to give up. Instead of growing apart, Jayze and I have become closer and know that a forever family is what we both want.

We are fighting for that. 

"If you want something to last forever, you treat it differently. You shield it and protect it. You never abuse it. You don’t expose it to the elements. You don’t make it common or ordinary. If it ever becomes tarnished, you lovingly polish it until it gleams like new. It becomes special because you have made it so, and it grows more beautiful and precious as time goes by."

~ F. Burton Howard ~