Being Godless and losing a child.
Last year I wrote a really raw article that discussed all the things they don’t tell you when your child dies (you can read it here). For those of you who aren’t aware by the lighting of the candle requests and profile picture changes stating “I am 1 in 4″ on facebook... October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness month. It’s the month of the year that we get to talk about our babies that have died whether you like it or not, and it’s the moments that we plead that you don’t forget what we have been through and that although our kids aren’t here now, they were at some point. I love the messages that people share, and I love that people aren’t afraid to talk about something that is so taboo and hard to talk about throughout the year. As we answer the questions about how many kids we have with lies because we don’t want to share our story, it’s a sigh of relief to feel “free” to talk about what we have been through.
It became apparent to me the few minutes I was holding my dead son that my entire life was about to change, and it was changing in ways that even I didn’t know how.Â
It became apparent that as the pastor sat next to me and said a prayer and spoke his peaceful words to God.
It became apparent as the stranger put her hand on my shoulder and told me that it was all a part of God’s plan.
It became apparent to me as the woman spoke that my son was too perfect for this earth and was in Heaven with God.
It became apparent as the older gentlemen told me that my son was looking down on me from Heaven.
It became apparent as the words were uttered that my son was with God now, and everything was going to be okay.
It became apparent as the high school friend told me that everything would be okay because when my time came and I died, I would see my son again in Heaven.Â
It became apparent as I saw the t-shirts stating “My son is an Angel”.
It became apparent as the bibles were given as gifts of comfort.Â
It became apparent when you go to the book store to find books about grief and loss and they all seem to start with the phrase, “Your Angel”.
It became apparent as the memorial jewelry online was all accompanied with angel wings and the customization of your child’s initials, or hand prints, or whatever your heart desired.Â
It became apparent as the man stood up at my son’s funeral and spoke the words of God and that God was going to lead us on this journey.Â
It became apparent as I was told that God wouldn’t have given me this life if I wasn’t strong enough to handle it.Â
It became so apparent as I shopped for urns and couldn’t find many that didn’t have God associated in some way, shape, or form.Â
It became apparent that the world forgot that I have always been a Godless person, and I’ve always been okay with that. I was going to have to walk through a lifetime of people feeling like religion was going to be the only way I could cope with my experiences, and that some way, shape, or form, God was going to be the one who got me through the hell that would be my years to follow.Â
Through the years I have grieved in ways people would never understand. I turned to depression and self loathing. I turned to rebellion and desperation. I turned to love and sadness. But I never once turned my back on myself and my beliefs that this world is something we navigate on our own and it is up to us to determine what happens in our lives. I never once thanked God for the experiences, I never once yearned for God to make my pain go away, or for my life to turn around and make something out of it. I turned to my friends, my family, and most importantly myself.Â
I only wish the world could respect the fact that I am at peace, and have always been at peace that my time with my son had a date stamped on it, and hours that I can’t get back, but most importantly, those were all I will ever get with him. I don’t need to feel sad knowing that I won’t see him again. I don’t need to linger on and grasp onto hope and desperation that our paths will cross again, or his “soul” will be reborn and I will get the chance to know him.
I won’t ever hold him again,Â
I won’t ever hear him cry again,Â
I won’t ever feel him squeeze my fingers tightly,
I won’t ever kiss him on his forehead again,Â
and I won’t ever feel his warm touch,
but I’m okay with that.Â
When you embrace the people who don’t turn to God to get through the hard times, its not your place to judge, it’s not your place to hold an opinion, but you should take a step back and give them a pat on the back for taking on the strength within themselves to pick their ass up and carry on in life. Because I will tell you, there’s nothing harder than getting your head in the game and continuing on with life after you experience the loss of a child.Â
Don’t pity me because of what I know and what I accept. Don’t judge me because I don’t need God like you do. And don’t do anything but love because love is the only thing that’s going to get you through this life. Through the good and the bad. I will always be grateful for the numbered hours I received, but I can accept in my heart that those hours will always remain precious and special because I won’t ever experience them again.Â