Good Days, Bad Days

Every loss parent will tell you—there are good days and there are bad days. And sometimes, there is no explanation for why a day is a good day and why one is a bad day. Some of the bad days, you can predict. The 19^th of every month is hard for me—it will always signify a day where Vivienne should be 1 month older, but instead, it’s another month without her. But I think the worst ones are the bad days that you can’t predict.

Today is one of those days. There is no reason why I woke up profoundly sad or why I’m spending the entire day fighting back tears. It’s not a special day, it’s just a day. A day when I don’t know how to find the strength to keep moving. A day when I wonder whether the world will ever feel right again. I miss my baby girl every day, but on days like today, it consumes me. It’s hard for me to talk, and it feels impossible to breathe.

On these bad days, the only thing that feels right is to spend some time with my daughter. For me, this means going through her things. I sit at her hope chest, hold the box that holds her remains, and cry. Sometimes, I read to her. Sometimes, I hold the clothes we bought for her that she never got to wear. I look at her pictures and hold the only blanket I have that held her. On these bad days, all I want is to hold my daughter one more time. But, that’s not an option.

So, I deal with the bad days the only way I know how. Spend time with Vivienne the only way I can, have a good long cry, and go to bed hoping that tomorrow will be easier. It usually is—the bad days do lift. But, I know there is another one waiting for me when I least expect it.

I find the strength to keep going, although sometimes I’m not sure how. On days like today, I feel like my reserve is running out. I have a lifetime of good days and bad days ahead of me. And those bad ones that come out of nowhere will always knock the wind out of me. I can only hope for enough good days to fill up the reserve enough to survive the days like today.