A new holiday

I have cried every single day since Sylvia was born. That was 52 days ago. I cried all day and all night before she was born. That was 53 days ago. Not small weeps or quiet cries, usually hard sobs. Sometimes I can feel it coming on and other times it surprises me. Sometimes I couldn’t force myself to cry even if I wanted to and other times I can’t stop. Sometimes it is just a small phrase that pops into my head or a question about why this happened to us or flash backs of my family’s grief stricken faces, Carlos’ in particular, or images of her face, her body, her hair or her perfect little fingers that will cause me to erupt into tears. For 53 days I have sobbed.

I imagine there will be a day in the future that I don’t cry but it certainly isn’t a goal, in fact I am terrified for the day that I don’t cry. It’s almost like feeling the pain of her death keeps her closer. Getting to different points as time passes like the looming two month anniversary of her death, or the day I don’t cry, makes me feel like she is getting lost. I look at her pictures daily, terrified that the memories are already slowly leaving me. I keep reminding myself that Sylvia is not trapped in the memories, rather she is in my heart, on my mind and in everything I see and do. For the rest of my life everything I do she will be with me, with Carlos, our families and with those that love and miss her.

October is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness month. Never in a hundred lifetimes would I have thought that this would have been a part of my Octobers. But it is. October 15th is a national day of remembrance for pregnancy and infant loss. More information can be found here and I invite you to light a candle at for yourself or someone you know who is a part of the devastating statistics of miscarriages, stillbirths or SIDS on this day. Carlos, myself and some of our family and friends will be celebrating Sylvia by attending a balloon release that day with a local support group. It will be a day like the past 53, heartbreaking, terrifying and painful but also  filled with a tremendous amount of love.

Teresa MendozaComment