So Alone

Yesterday I came to the realization that I am alone—so alone—in this grieving process. And yet who can I tell that to without hurting them too.

I had a rough evening—such an awful evening last night—and when my husband asked if I wanted to talk about it, I replied that I didn’t want him to feel bad. He automatically assumed he did something wrong. And so I told him how alone I felt. And he said nothing. There I went again—hurting the one person that’s really trying.

But I am alone. Oh I have family and friends that try their best. And of course there is my husband. But they grieve for me; they don’t grieve with my. In my grief for my baby I am alone.

No one misses the dreams. No one hurts for the loss. No one still needs this baby like they need air to breathe.

No one.

Just me.

The other day my husband got upset with me. I had given him some literature we received in case he wanted to read it. He told me that he doesn’t feel it like I do. He was sad at first, and now, just guilty that I hurt so bad.

He never talked about why he was sad—what he missed or grieved. The few times tears fell he wouldn’t talk to me. I need to know. I need to hear. Damn society influencing how men grieve. Maybe if he had talked I wouldn’t feel so alone. But he has moved on.

And now…now I feel alone.

I’m amidst a sea of friends and family who care…

And still I’m alone.

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