Validated

While many in my world can't fully grasp the pain I am in and exactly how much I am suffering through this tragedy, when I come here I know I am fully understood.

I always expected to be warmly welcomed in to the wonderful world of motherhood, but I could never have imagined such a comforting embrace such as this.

Of course, I would give anything to not be here. I'd trade every single possession I own to have her back. Much like those bushfire victims who lost everything, I bet they now realise the precious nature of life when they see how quickly it can be taken away. I'd much rather be hanging with the regular mums in mothers' groups right now, discussing starting solids, trying to keep crawling babies under control and generally just sitting around sipping coffees and enjoying life. And I'd much rather be able to enjoy life again with my real life friends who are now simply living on a different planet to me. It is not their fault. It is not my fault. But this is just where we ended up. I hate it with every fibre of my being and I wish things could be different. It is not easy for any of us, but it is far more difficult for me. I'm the one who has to process this every waking moment of each and every day.

But when I'm here, I know no one will judge me. No one will hurry me. No one will shake their head disapprovingly at the way I chose to grieve. Because the way I chose to grieve is the right way. There can be no other way. It is what feels right for me. Because really, no one can know how they will weather a storm like this until they unexpectedly arrive here. When I'm here, I feel validated.

I get up each morning, and I turn the computer on. I check my emails and look over my comments. Then I go to your words and each and every day, I sit there and nod along saying in my head "yes, yes, yes" (think Me.g R.yan in When Har.ry Met Sa.lly only slightly less dramatic).

Some days I want to forward your posts to everyone I know I want them to read your words so I can say "SEE, this girl here, she gets it. She's like me. She's doing the things I'm doing, thinking the things I'm thinking, saying the things I'm saying. You see, I'm not as big of a freak as you think I am".

I could bundle up so many of your posts, on so many varied and heartwrenching topics, print them off and have them bound in to a book. I would get endless copies of these books printed and I would hand them out to all I know. I want others in my life to understand I am doing this grief thing healthily and normally, whatever normal actually means.

I have done things many in my shoes have not done. I have visited babies. Babies have visited here. I have played with children. Fed children. Bounced children on my knee. Mixed with pregnant women. Been to hospital to visit, hold and kiss a newborn. But I have not done things some of you have done. I have not really spoken on the phone in six months. I have not been back to work. I've not been able to pack up any of the baby things in the house or take down any of her cards. We're all different, but we're also all the same. We're all bound by the horror of our losses.

Overall, I think I am doing pretty well. As well as could be expected. I keep saying to Simon, I feel like I should be dead. I feel like I should not have survived this. I should have been killed on impact. It was like a horrific car accident I miraculously survived, really. I shake my head and marvel and each day I have managed to live since I lost her. There is much to be said about the human spirit and our capacity to survive when all hope seems lost.

I will be absent from here for a little while. The cheap hotel we booked in Hawaii does not have wireless access, in fact I don't think it has internet access at all. And to be honest, I don't know I'll be going out of my way to find internet cafes in and around Waikiki. I need a holiday from everything right now. My family, my house, my life, old friends and new friends here. I know we can't outrun our problems, but we're just going to see if we can hide for a while.

I'm always humbled to see how many read here. It is truly amazing. I can't believe so many are genuinely interested in what is going on in my tortured mind. And if any more of you are reading but don't stop by to comment, I'd love to hear from you to know who you are. Only if you want to, of course.

We don't actually leave for three days, but we have so much packing and organising to get done, So thanks, and see ya when I return.........