One thing I have learned from losing Taylor Grace is that grieving is a process made up of different stages. There were nights where I couldn't remember what it was like to fall asleep without crying. There were mornings where I didn't want to get out of bed. There were days where our kitchen was filled with flowers, plants, and cards from the beautiful people mourning the loss of our daughter with us. That was just the beginning of the grieving process.
It's been 2 months today since our little girl went to Heaven. It still feels just as raw as it did the day the doctor couldn't find a heartbeat, honestly. I've learned how to deal with the emotions, but it doesn't mean I miss her any less. I still think about her all the time. I still look down at my belly to remind myself she isn't in there. I still cry imagining the daughter I didn't get to have. This is normal, I suppose. I am her mother. Aside from Parker, this affected me more than anyone. I haven't moved on, but what happens when the world around me does?
I've been contemplating this over the last couple of weeks. Sure people still ask how we are doing from time to time, but for the most part, the world has moved on. People go on smiling, laughing, and talking as if their lives weren't changed forever. It's easy to feel alone while it seems like everyone else is fine.
So what do you do when the rest of the world moves on?
After a lot of thought, I realized the answer is quite simple: absolutely nothing. People still care for us and are praying for us, but everyone is going to slowly move on, and this is only natural. Nobody is immune from tragedy in this life. I lost a child, but everyone has lost someone. We all have to pick ourselves up and live life as best we can. Everyone else's world didn't come crashing down when Taylor left this Earth. Ours did. Sure people were sad for us and hurt because we were hurting, but it didn't change anyone else's lives as much as it changed ours. I can't expect the world to be sad forever, and I don't want to be sad forever. This is just another step in the grieving process. The world will feel better before I will, and that's okay.