Monday, the 31st of August 2015 was Vic’s third birthday in Heaven.
It was difficult….
It was the most difficult birthday to date…..
From the second I opened my eyes waves of grief crashed over me. My only conscious thought was to breathe. This too would pass.
Minutes before the clock struck 12 I thought “Now there are merely minutes left of this birthday. Tomorrow the mask is back in position. The world will see what they want to see.”
“I will indulge and consciously soak in this heartbreak for another couple of minutes. I remember the way Vic embraced her birthday. She loved every second of the day…. But now this day is mine – a day of reflection, a day of gratefulness, a day to celebrate the miracle of my daughter’s life and to mourn her death.”
From the first second I learnt I was pregnant I starting thinking, planning and fantasizing about my child’s life. I imagined a sport star; a brilliant academic… a family of my own exactly like my family. I dreamt of being a mother like my mom was. In my mind I created a beautiful world for my little baby.
Then my beautiful little baby daughter was diagnosed with Osteogenesis Imperfecta. My world crashed into a million pieces.
“Your daughter will not live beyond the age of nine…”
I thought I would lose my mind. I started spending every spare minute of my life researching Osteogenesis Imperfecta…finding a doctor that would help and cure my child. Thirty seven years after Vic’s diagnosis Vic finally died.
Hundreds of hours in theater; years in hospital, more years filled with pain, indignity and suffering has passed.
The beautiful world I dreamt of for my child was just that….. A dream…..a nightmare.
The death of a child is a pain so deep that it cannot be expressed in words.
The death of a child is life changing.
The loss of a child is a loss that the parent, no matter how much time goes by, will continue to mourn for their entire life. No matter how much support there is or isn’t, it is a journey a parent travels alone.
In the first year I was scared. I felt the madness gnawing on my soul. Today, I am better. I can breathe.
But, I will NEVER stop grieving for my beautiful angel child.