Monday, October 19, 2009

The Facade

I am a living facade. I went out of town this weekend with a friend and her teenage daughters to run in a 5k. We had a great time. Her girls are wonderful kids and I really enjoyed the time spent with them. I enjoyed the quality time with my friend. But it was the first night I had spent away from my family since Chase died. I felt like a child....packing his blanket. I thought for a second not to take it, but I have not gone to bed without it since April 17th. I have it by my cheek every night I go to sleep. And since we were all sharing a hotel room, I thought (only for a second) about what I would look like, a healthy 37-year-old woman, sleeping with her dead child's blanket. But I took it. And I needed it. Inconspicuously, I fell asleep, my tears falling on my secret security blanket, feeling as though Chase was with me. Thinking how he should be snuggled in next to me right now, here with me on this weekend trip.
But I laugh. I smile. All the while on the inside I am sad. The guilt for showing happiness waxes and wanes. I think what I must look like: a mother who lost her baby and seems to go on like it never happened. But it doesn't bother me. Because it's not true. It's this facade. Not like the self-aclaimed FB facade. This is a real life facade. I act one way and feel completely different on the inside because of real life. My. Real. Life. I can't walk around like I'm depressed. I'm not depressed. I am a woman with a broken heart. And that broken heart is healing. Slowly. But it has left behind a hole. A hole that will never mend. And I will forever be crying inside. It will never go away.
This came from my friend Kristy's blog. I'm not sure if she wrote it or not. I saved it in my notes and found it the other day. And it is me.

Do not judge the bereaved mother. She comes in many forms.
She is breathing, but she is dying.
She may look young, but inside she has become ancient.
She smiles, but her heart sobs.
She walks, she talks, she cooks, she cleans, she works, she IS, but she IS NOT, all at once.
She is here, but part of her is elsewhere for eternity.
Thankyou to my friend and her daughters for not judging me. But for giving me a good time. And running with me. :) I needed that!


  1. Its not a facade, its your life. Its the life we all lead. I don't think any of us would function if we really allowed what we feel on the inside to shine through 24/7. I am a different person inside them I am on the outside. I am a different person all together then I was before we lost E, and even more so since we lost L. I am broken inside, I have to learn a new life. A life different then what I knew 13 plus months ago. This is who I am now. Good or bad, take it or leave it. I refuse to change, or hide things for the sake of others. I too sleep with 2 blankies every night. The represent my baby boys. I need to have them, and probably always will. Sure it might be a little odd to the outside world that an almost 30 year old sleeps with 2 blankies, but the inside world - those who share this same grief understands. For what its worth, I understand.

    Isn't that poem quite touching? I didn't write it, I found it online somewhere after lost L. I re-read it from time to time because I need re-assurance that the way I feel or act isn't wrong. I am normal. I am normal for a person who has suffered such a loss. Its a poem that I would love to send to so many people. A poem that I would want them to read, to know and to learn from. A poem that could teach the outside world what our lives are really like.

    Lots of *hugs* my friend. xo

  2. I like the poem. It's so heartbreaking, and so true.

    Sometimes it does feel like a facade in this life, but sometimes the opposite emotions come together and just coexist all at once, and it's not a facade, but just surviving and living with the pain and the grief that we all hold. I'm glad you had that little piece of Chase with you on your trip.

  3. It's amazing how much I have found out that I have to hide. This facade that we live is heartbreaking and feels so untrue. I like what Lachlan's Mum said about it, and I want it to be true. Maybe it'll help if I think about it like that.
    But hiding my tears and running away from people in stores are my ways to survive, ya know? Bringing along the blanket, if it gives you comfort, has to be ok. You are surviving.
    Thinking of you!

  4. I totally get the facade. I agree with Kristy, its real life for all of us babylost mamas. If we let let it, grief would literally consume our life. I am glad you took Chase's blanket, I love having things like that to remember Jenna by too.


  5. I sleep with one of Kelly's (Beauty of Sufficient Grace) comfort bears every night. I snuggle with it tightly. I have traveled with it.

    I know I live a facade. Most people can't handle what it is really like for me so I put on a smile and I go about my day. I do hurt inside and I miss her every minute of the day. If only they knew.

  6. I hear you! I am so afraid for my husband and kids to all go somewhere without me- terrified even- I think- what if there were a car accident... ugh- it is awful but it is real- the fear of loss after you have lost is so real- and facades are certainly the norm.
    Hang in there!

  7. Christy,
    Your Chase was a beautiful little baby. I'm glad that you found my blog, and I look forward to catching up by reading your previous posts.