The darkest days of my life.

It has been 18 months since Courtney left this physical world for the next. I only remember the raw pain from those first few months. I had no idea pain like that even existed. The days when it felt like I couldn’t breathe. The days I didn’t think I could survive. I’m going to be brutally honest and open. Life really sucked, in the most unimaginable way. Every day, waking up, I was dealing with the knowing that she was no longer here on earth, again and again.

I’ve never had to deal with anything like this. Yes, I’ve had Grandparents transition who had lived a full life. I was very sad but also knew that they were fortunate to live a long life. I haven’t had to deal with a parent transitioning yet but those who have, shared it does not even compare. I’m not saying that to say my grief is worse, it’s just different. The loss of a child is so “unnatural” , so out of the normal order of things. It doesn’t matter how old they were either. We “can’t imagine” how others have dealt with such a terrible loss. We just didn't WANT to imagine what they were going through, because that would never happen to us… …

The days leading up to Courtneys’ transition, I was in a daze. Was this really happening? About day 4, while in the ICU room with her, standing beside her bed, I felt her wrap her arms around me from behind and hug me. (She did that a lot throughout her life.) I had this feeling of love wash over me and had this knowing that everything would be ok, regardless of how things played out. I know she was letting me know this on a soul level. I felt we would be saying goodbye soon. I can’t describe it any differently. She was letting me know she was there to help us through this.

That provided me with some comfort but oh my god, those first few months without her were TERRIBLE. I grew up with somewhat of a religious background, but I would say I’m more of a spiritual believer. I knew there is something after this, but what? The fear of where she was , was she alone, was overwhelming and terrifying at first. Was she scared? Was she even anywhere??? I started buying and reading books on the afterlife, NDE’s anything that might help me know where she was and what she was doing now.

I craved sleep. It was the only place I could escape the pain and reality of life now. Sleep brought me dreams of her . I went through the motions of the day, if I was able to function, only looking forward to bedtime. Each day I would wake up and reality would crash into me. She was really gone. Each day trying to breathe, trying to take a drink of water. Sobbing everyday really dehydrates you. I rarely ate. I had no desire to be alive. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t WANT to die, but there was just this feeling of “Why am I still here?”. Anxiety crushing me right below my sternum, almost every second of every day in the first few months. How do I live in this world without my girl? How is that even possible? I knew I had my son, husband and family to be there for. It was just too much in the beginning to do anything but try to survive another second.

I was so angry at the world. How could it just go on while ours had crashed into a brick wall?!! Ours totally stopped! I didn’t just cry. I sobbed at a level that made my body feel like a ragdoll that had been tossed on the ground and stomped on. The kind of sobbing that comes from every cell in your body. The kind that leaves you utterly exhausted and unable to catch your breath, laying on the floor, unable to get up for a long time. My eyes felt like straw as they were so dried out and swollen. I tried to do this mainly when Brian was at work because he was so worried about me. After releasing all of that emotion, I would feel lighter. I learned early on that I had to face my grief head on. Face it and feel it. Every shitty, painful bit of it. Only those who have lost a child will understand just how shitty and painful it really is. If I ignored it for even a little bit, it would come even harder. I had a lab appt 2 weeks after her transition and when I mentioned to the phlebotomist that my daughter had journeyed ahead, she stopped doing what she was doing, put her hand on my shoulder and told me “You will survive this. You won't think it’s possible, but you will.” She had lost both of her teenage sons several years apart. That woman helped safe my life. She was an angel put in my path that day. I will never forget her.

I reached out to a dear friend who had gone through this kind of loss 30 years ago. I needed to talk to people who survived it. Another high school friend reached out to me who had been put on this path 13 years ago. These moments of conversation and support meant so very much to me. My family was a HUGE support. They will never know just how important they are to me.

About a month into this journey, I found a few groups online that focused on children transitioning ahead, like ours. As the weeks kept coming, I knew I couldn’t stay in the depths of despair. Some of these groups were extremely depressing. Moms who had been in the pit for years, moms who said I would never find happiness again. Even Moms who said I must not love my child enough if I wanted to try to find happiness again. I knew Courtney wouldn't want me living like that. I knew I couldn't keep living like that. I needed to find a way to move forward, to find some sort of happiness in this new life I had to live in now. I still felt guilt though. I felt guilty for smiling, for laughing. Was I grieving wrong?

I finally found a group of angel moms, who were focused on healing. I use the term “Heal” as a process, not an end result. I will never fully heal. There is a huge hole in my heart and healing is a lifelong process. I also found a therapist. I know everyone’s grief journey is different, but this was my journey, and I knew I could choose how it played out. I want to make clear that this is my experience and my feelings. I do not speak for every grieving mom out there.

I’m sure you wonder why I use the term “transition” over “died” or “loss”. I’ve learned these past 18 months that we didn’t lose Courtney. Yes, her physical presence is no longer here with us, but her spirit has and always will be here. She just transitioned from this earthly world to the next. That is where the awesome stuff starts! Sure, there is still a ton of sadness but a LOT of cool stuff has happened and I cant wait to share. My spiritual journey had been put on a fast track.