Right there with you, Elsa. I don’t know your circumstances but I’m there, too. I thought Saturn transiting my asc with pluto right on my IC would mean a life change but only now do I realize it was all playing out over the last couple of years. My baby girl, my best friend, moved on. She’s no longer under foot. No longer “momma”-ing me to the point of me threatening to change my name. No more sharing and loving and caring.
She’s still my daughter. She lives on. I have felt like I could die for the last couple of years. Slowly I am rebuilding my life but there are times when I’ve wondered what the point of doing so was. Again, I do not know your circumstances but there are a thousand ways to lose your baby girl. Whether or not your situation is like mine…..I teared up reading your blog. I am sorry.

And von, it is like a mother who throws herself on the casket of her deceased child. After awhile someone has to get her / peel her off the coffin and support her as she walks away.

And if that mother does not learn to stop crying… to contain herself then that’s it. That’s it, she’s done.

I have another kid. I can’t be “done” so I do this and I am telling you, it is not easy and it is not natural but life depends on it, so…

(((everyone)))

Never seems like you are skimming the surface.

I was just trying to say that even though you are just scratching the surface it’s powerful.

Doesn’t sound crazy.

very well put, and I very much relate.

(((e)))

Elsa, I am so, so sorry. I won’t pretend to have the right words, because I don’t - just know how so very, very sorry I am for you, and how I hope…….I don’t know, just, know my heart goes out to you.

{{Elsa}}

I don’t have personal experience with such a depth of loss but I can say I know how such a realization, the recognition of learning a harsh lesson while you are in the midst of it, is familiar to me. It’s a dynamic and humbling moment. This is a very powerful entry and I wish you the best through this.

Oh my, Elsa….I’m so sorry. The thought of that kind of loss is unfathomable to me as a mother….I admire you so much for having the strength to do what you do everyday (give) with that kind of void in your heart. I wish you nothing but healing. And as one who has an extremely soft spot for all children, thank you for continuing to be present with Vid. I imagine there are moments when that is easier said than done.
(((Elsa and family)))

There is so much that I want to say, but I don’t know how.

I don’t know why things are the way they are. I do know that I admire very much your ability to do what must be done.

I don’t know how people who don’t have some sort of faith or universal worldview handle it. I really don’t.

oh yeah, and I forgot to say that you and the community that gathered around you saved my ass. and i am very grateful for it.

for the short amount of time ive been here, ive seen it change and save other people’s asses too.

so here’s to ass savin’ Elsa 8th house energy! and it dont have nothing do with emotion, its just your energy. and its remarkable.

i know of three women in my family who lost their babies when they were little (one was forced to abort)
two of them never recovered. they became incapable of living their lives.

i think… disassociation… that element of detachment, is an essential psychological survival reaction allowing us to function while a part of us sits in the dark howling.
the danger is if you never go back to that dark corner and let that piece of oneself out to breathe the fresh air and reconnect then it starts splintering the psyche.
anyway, that’s what i’ve seen in myself. there were times i cut off so many pieces i felt like a walking shell, brittle and hollow. it started to warp me inside.
so, i guess, a slight caution. detachment can go too far. just like anything, i guess.

Not for the same reason, but I can entirely relate. Eventually you have to pick up your petticoats, straighten the steel in your back, and sally forth as though nothing is wrong, even if inside you’re still howling like a banshee.
You do what you’ve gotta do.

(((E))) Take as much time as you need to be chilly. We’ll be here, with newly-hatched shiny chickens waiting for your coming out party.

At one time in our culture people wore black (widow’s weeds) and weren’t expected to attend social functions. If they did, they didn’t have to do the things other people did to participate. We used to LET people have their moments and recognized their difficult, personal, heart breaking times and respected it.

Now, not only are we not allowed our public expressions of grief, we are expected to “get over it” as quickly as possible. And by no means are we to show our internal disarrangement while we struggle to reconstruct our inner lives. Please, lets not disturb the other children while our whole world is shattered.

That is so unfair.

Nothing can trowel over the pain caused by the loss of a child. Hopefully one day as you navigate how to deal with all of that, what remains is the warm glow of the love you shared.

I am so very sorry for your loss.

dina2, the story is too big and does not reduce. There is also the talking into a fan effect and in short the people I can talk to are as common as needles in haystacks due to a complex set of reasons and I accept this. As I have mentioned a few times I overwhelm green berets with my tales - I am on the outer rim of horror here and that’s just the way it is. Talking is an exercise in futility.

I can probably illustrate this better by using the soldier as an example as he is more a solid object.

The fact is he did go through 3 boot camps, he did work in missiles (a job for the brainiest) in the AF and in the most technical position. He was a marine, he was a ranger, he was in Special Forces and he did win… he was the best soldier in the world at one time.

He has fought in every war from the cold war - the gulf war, he was in Somalia - one of the (composite) entities in the Black Hawk Down movie, he did master every specialty in SF and advance to where he was sent on solo missions (very rare) and he was involved (right in the center) of things like the attempt to rescue the hostages in Iran when he was a kid (20 years old).. and for the record, his extraordinary like started when he was born godson of a figure in history on the world stage.

Now. What do you think happens when (if) he tries to tell somebody all that? At what point to they quit listening, hmm? Do you think he’d be believed?

In short, who gives a fuck? What does he get out of telling anyone any of that? Absolutely nothing. However due his extreme experience he’s gained skills and knowledge that is extraordinary so if you are fortunate to be able to tap his mind… well it is rich.

As for what this has to do with me, I am in the exact same position… believe it or not.

And one more thing. We don’t really need “help” or “support”. We need to eat and have a place to live, that’s about it.

It’s not crazy, Elsa.

My loss is nothing like yours, but I can relate to the “stop crying and just get through it” way of living. I have lost my son, at least for the foreseeable future. He won’t even go to dinner with me unless I make the invitation too tempting for him to pass up…which means in the past year I’ve had two encounters with him that were remotely fulfilling - the others have all left me mourning. Should I encounter him or see him on stage (like last night, when he was the best performer in the production the school put on and that’s NOT just his mama talking - people in the lobby after were talking about his performance) I feel bereft.

I cried so much after I moved out and he chose not only to stay with his father but to completely reject and avoid me. Remember The Box I used to talk about? My personal Pandora’s Box that I emptied out and dealt with old hurts? Good thing I emptied it, because it is once again loaded with things I simply cannot pull out on any kind of frequent basis and continue to function.

I get it. I also know that as much as I hurt and grieve, I cannot begin to imagine where you are. What little I know of the situation tells me what I have is nothing compared to what you are facing. {{{{Elsa}}}}

I’m not even qualified to write here. My heart breaks for you.

I very much admire your openness in the face of your pain. This is a healing hand to those of us who have faced trauma or will in the future.

((((Elsa))))

aye… i get that… i just have this instinctive need to play devil’s advocate from time to time.
hard to tell when it’s appropriate or not… but, well, boundaries to detachment are necessary… but it looks like you’re way ahead of me on that one.

i just hope you have space for what solace you need. somewhere, somehow, before you start starving for it. whatever it might be.

Hugs back, Stacey. Thank you.

She was such a beautiful baby….and the two of you in that photo …

I like soldier’s billion year theory and it helps me to believe that while you (or any woman in the deepest pain) pulls herself together for the sake of survival and others….there are futures that extend way beyond the runway and the stage of this one life time.
((((elsa))))…for the healing for now.

Detachment can be a very useful thing. I spent my 20’s learning how to stop caring, essentially, because I had to live through an interminable situation with no end date. Not to mention that my peers didn’t have to deal with such things so I had to go to support group with people 20-40 years older than me. I have found it to be very helpful. Well, except in dealing with a Pisces Moon mother who is the coffin-sobber, but well, someone had to be the “hard” one and I was better suited.

However, I do have to point out that learning to RE-attach 10 years later (well, 12 now) is slow and baffling and I have my doubts that I even want to give that a go again. Life is a lot easier when you don’t give a shit about (trivial example here) which restaurant to go to, versus picking one you really want and having someone bitch about it. My shrink told me that I can’t say “I don’t care” any more, I have to make choices even when I don’t really want or care about the options handed to me. It’s a bitch to do now.

Given how I was born clingy, it was a good lesson to learn. But I’m afraid to swing the pendulum back and make things all crazy again.