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Comment by Karen R. on August 9, 2011 at 12:46am

POEM: "Normal"

My new "Normal" 

Normal is having tears waiting behind every smile when you realizesomeone important is missing from all the important events in your family's life. 
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. 
Normal is not sleeping very well because a thousand what if's & why didn't I's go through your head constantly. 
Normal is reliving that day continuously through your eyes and mind, holding your head to make it go away. 
Normal is having the TV on the minute I walk into the house to have noise, because the silence is deafening. 
Normal is every happy event in my life always being backed up with sadness lurking close behind, because of the hole in my 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 my "normal". 
Normal is having some people afraid to mention my baby. 
Normal is making sure that others remember her. 
Normal is weeks, months, and years after the initial shock, the grieving gets worse sometimes, not better. 
Normal is not listening to people compare anything in their life to this loss, unless they too have lost a child. NOTHING. Even if your child is in the remotest part of the earth away from you - it doesn't compare. Losing a parent is horrible, but having to bury your own child is unnatural. 
Normal is taking pills, and trying not to cry all day, because I know my mental health depends on it. 
Normal is realizing I do cry everyday. 
Normal is disliking jokes about death or funerals, bodies being referred to as cadavers, when you know they were once someone's loved one. 
Normal is being impatient with everything and everyone, but someone stricken with grief over the loss of your child. 
Normal is sitting at the computer crying, sharing how you feel with chat buddies who have also lost a child. 
Normal is feeling a common bond with friends on the computer in England, Australia, Canada, the Netherlands and all over the USA, but yet never having met any of them face to face. 
Normal is a new friendship with another grieving mother, talking and crying together over our children and our new lives. 
Normal is not listening to people make excuses for God. "God may have done this because..." I love God, I know that my baby is in heaven,but hearing people trying to think up excuses as to why babies were taken from this earth is not appreciated and makes absolutely no sense to this grieving mother. 
Normal is being too tired to care if you paid the bills, cleaned the house, did laundry or if there is any food. 
Normal is wondering this time whether you are going to say you have a child, because you will never see this person again and it is not worth explaining that my baby is in heaven. And yet when you say you have no children to avoid that problem, you feel horrible as if you have betrayed your baby. 
Normal is avoiding McDonald's and Burger King playgrounds because of small, happy children that break your heart when you see them. 
Normal is asking God why he took your child's life instead of yours and asking if there even is a God. 
Normal is knowing I will never get over this loss, in a day or a million years. 
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 thatyou are "normal". 

~Written by someone that knows exactly what I'm going through, this author is referring to her baby girl. I t doesn't matter how old your child is, they will always be your baby! I lost my 21yr old son 22 months and I will NEVER accept it. My pain has not lessoned one bit, thanks for reading and listening.