The Fear

I guess I haven’t written for a while because I am struggling. There is nothing more to say really, other than what I’ve already said.

My son is dead and I am broken.

I saw a quote a few years ago, when my brother died, that likened grief to fear. I didn’t understand it fully at the time.

No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.

C.S Lewis

I do now. I am filled with a sense of dread and terror that I didn’t know was possible until I lost my baby.

I’m scared of forgetting all the little details of him. I’m scared of “moving on”. I’m terrified of the possibility of having another child and feeling like he’s being replaced but I’m equally terrified of never having the chance to bring my child home. I’m not naïve enough now to assume a pregnancy means a baby at the end of it.

I’m scared of having to face the rest of my life without Stephen. I think that’s what scares me the most right now. I see other parents marking anniversaries of 10, 12 and more years without their child. I don’t want that. I don’t think I have the strength to face decades not being able to hold him. I don’t want to have to.