This is not the only friend I have who has lost a child. I have another who doesn't share her grief so easily. It took many wine filled nights for her to open up about her loss. And only after I MADE her. I felt, and still feel, that God brought me into her life to help her talk about losing G.
I hate that we three share the same loss. Daughters all lost at different stages of life; an infant, a four year old, and an 18 year old. I hate that we are Dead Mothers.
When your child dies, a part of you dies with them. You look the same, you talk the same, but you are dead inside. You still have other children, a husband, a job, and you take care of them and you (try to) go about your day as if you were normal. But you are not. The sun still shines, but it doesn't. You keep living, but not really. You have two choices when your child dies...lay down and die with them or keep living. I chose to keep living. But I am no longer the "Me" I was before.
As a mother, you worry about your children, no matter how old they are. The ironic thing is that of all my children, I worried about Noelle the least. I always thought that because of her strong faith and relationship with God that nothing bad would ever happen to her. If it was raining and she was driving, I would think, "God wouldn't let Noelle get hurt in a car wreck" and could then let the worry subside. I truly believed that she lived in a God enveloped bubble that kept her safe from everything.
I now have an irrational fear that my other children could suffer the same fate as Noelle and I could one day become a Childless Mother. My trust in humanity has been destroyed. That is not to say that it can't one day be restored, but as of right now...
I am a Dead Mother.