This was posted on a FB support group that I go to.
Really covers what this "new" life is. A "new" normal.
WHAT IS NORMAL AFTER YOUR CHILD DIES?
Normal is having tears waiting behind every smile when you realize someone important is missing from all the important events in your family's life.
Normal is trying to decide what to take to the cemetery for Birthdays, Christmas, Thanksgiving, New Years, Valentine's Day, etc.
Normal is feeling like you can't sit another minute without getting up and screaming, because you just don't like to sit through anything anymore.
Normal is not sleeping very well because a thousand what if's & why didn't I's go through your head constantly.
Normal is continuously reliving that horrible day of learning of your child's death through your eyes and mind, holding your head to make it go away.
Normal is having the TV on the minute you walk into the house to have noise, because the silence is deafening.
Normal is every happy event in your life always being backed up with sadness lurking close behind, because of the hole in your heart.
Normal is telling the story of your child's death as if it were an everyday, commonplace activity, and then seeing the horror in someone's eyes at
how awful it sounds. And yet realizing it has
become a part of your "normal."
Normal is coming up with the difficult task of how to honor your child's memory on their birthday and holidays, and survive these days. And trying to find the balloon or flag that fit's the occasion. "Happy Birthday”? Not really.
Normal is my heart warming and yet sinking at the sight of something special my child loved. Thinking how she would love it, but how she is not here to enjoy it.
Normal is having some people afraid to mention my child.
Normal is making sure that others do remember her.
Normal is after the funeral is over everyone else goes on with their lives, but we continue to grieve our loss forever.
Normal is seeing other families who are "whole" and thinking of how lucky they are. And thinking back on memories of when we were a whole family and knowing that it will never be that way again because our family chain was broken.
Normal is weeks, months, and years after the initial shock, the grieving gets worse, not better because with every passing day, you miss them more.
Normal is not listening to people compare anything in their life to this loss, unless they too have lost a child. Nothing compares. Nothing.
Losing a parent is horrible, but having to bury your own child is unnatural... a complete nightmare that you never wake up from.
Normal is taking pills, and trying not to cry all day, because you know your mental health depends on it.
Normal is realizing that you do cry every day.
Normal is being impatient with everything and everyone but someone stricken with grief over the loss of their own child.
Normal is sitting at the computer crying, sharing how you feel with chat buddies who have also lost a child.
Normal is not wanting to hear that my child is in a better place because although I know she is in heaven, I will never understand why my beautiful child was taken from this earth. It makes absolutely no sense to this grieving mother.
Normal is being too tired to care if you paid the bills, cleaned the house, did the laundry or if there is any food... too tired to even get ready to go to the doctor to find out why you’re so tired.
Normal is asking God why he took your child's life instead of yours.
Normal is knowing you will never get over this loss, not in a day nor a million years.
Normal is having therapists agree with you that you will never "really" get over the pain and that there is nothing they can do to help you because they know that only bringing your child back from the dead could possibly make it "better".
Normal is learning to lie to everyone you meet and telling them you are fine. You lie because it makes others uncomfortable if you cry. You've learned it's easier to lie to them than to tell them the truth that you still feel empty and it's probably never going to get any better -- ever.
And last of all...
Normal is hiding all the things that have become "normal" for you to feel, so that everyone around you will think that you are "normal"
It's a new life. Not one I ever thought I'd be living. Not the "normal" of the past. Just learning to live though each day. One day at a time.