I’ve spent a lot of time showing my gratitude for my fellow loss mamas. It seems they always seem to be there picking me up when I need it. Or honouring Ryan in some profound way that just makes him (and subsequently me) feel so special and loved.
But the person most immediate in my circle of support has got to be Richard, and he honestly just doesn’t get enough credit for keeping me afloat and out of the psychiatric wing of some hospital somewhere.
I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose a baby and then have to feel like you need to be strong to support someone. I was allowed to fall to pieces. I was allowed 15 weeks off work to start putting myself back together. I was allowed to cry wherever and whenever I wanted. I was allowed to be a mess. And maybe Richard would have been allowed all of these things too (except of course the maternity leave), but he didn’t (he couldn’t?) take advantage of them. Because he was too busy making sure I was okay.
That’s the ultimate in support.
That’s for better or for worse.
That’s in good times and in bad.
And even now, as we’re navigating this ever-scary ending of our PAL journey, I know he doesn’t always confide his deepest fears in me because he knows his fears will worsen my own. And that’s not fair. And it’s not okay. But it’s just one more way he’s constantly putting my needs ahead of his own.
He’s the greatest support system I could have ever asked for. And I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make him understand how truly grateful I am to have his hand to hold through this grief. And just being grateful that neither one of us has had to do it alone.