Sometimes I worry that when I write about my grief, all of you roll your eyes and go “we get it, ugh.” And I’m so lucky that for the most part, all the comments and emails I get are so kind and loving and supportive. You all buoy me, you really do.
And then I’ll get the comments and emails that say, “I pray you get better for Annabel,” or “poor Annabel, having to grow up with a mother who can’t get over it,” and other sentiments with the same theme.
As if grief is a disease with a cure, and the death of a child is something a mother should just get over.
I don’t know what some people expect – that I will just never think about Madeline again? That I won’t miss her, or wonder what she’d be doing at that very moment? That I’ll just pretend she never existed?
I will do my best to make sure my grief for Madeline will never negatively impact Annabel’s life. Ever. And anyone who thinks it will is flat-out wrong.
I don’t deny that my grief does affect Annabel. I touch her more, kiss her repeatedly, hug her extra, play with her longer, and tell her I love her constantly.
So for those of you that worry about what kind of parent I am to Annabel, let me put your minds at ease – I am a kick-ass parent. My daughters are loved to the ends of the universe and back, and they know it. And if I am lucky enough to have another child someday, he or she will know it too.
Prayers and love and hope and laughter are always welcome here. But you don’t have to pray over how I’ll raise my perfect, spunky Annabel. Don’t worry, she’ll be just fine.