I open my eyes, and I immediately realise that nothing has changed overnight. There is still a huge ache in my chest, and one all-consuming thought in my mind: Thomas. Although it is still very early- the sun has hardly risen – I know I have to get up. If I stay in bed, I will start to think about my baby. I will wonder if I will survive Thomas’ death and the tears will again begin to flow. I don’t want to start the day in a melancholy mood without hope, so I swing my legs over the side of the bed and get moving.
I shower and dress and eat breakfast automatically, and soon I find myself standing in the kitchen. A wave of grief sweeps through me, but I set my lips firmly together and I banish all thoughts of my baby. Instead, I think about washing the dishes.
But a voice says, “Give in. Cry!”
And the tears start to seep from my eyes.
“Who can be expected to shoulder this burden? It’s too much. No one cares that you’re hurting so much. Give in. It will never get any better.”
The tears are flowing freely now and I sob. I want to sink to the floor, allowing my misery to overcome me. I want to cry, “It’s all too difficult. I’ve had enough.” I want to despair.
But I don’t.
I start to say, “Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in the battle.
Be our protection against the malice and the snares of the devil…”
I put one foot in front of the other and keep going, and somehow I make it through this difficult moment. I call upon St Michael the Archangel many times, and I keep moving through the day, until it finally ends.
As I climb into bed, I think about the next day and the next and the next… How long will I have to keep struggling through this dark grief-filled world? Will it really get any better?
And then I realise something. I have survived another day.
I hear a voice, “Don’t look ahead. Take one day at a time. That’s all you have to do. You’re doing well.”
And I reply, “Jesus, I trust in you.”
Saint Michael the Archangel,
defend us in the battle.
Be our protection against the malice and snares of the devil.
May God rebuke him, we humbly pray;
and do Thou, O Prince of the Heavenly Host,
by the Divine Power of God,
cast into hell Satan and all the other evil spirits
who roam through the world seeking the ruin of souls.
Please share more of my grief posts at my blog, Sue Elvis Writes
The Apostolate of Hannah's Tears 
I understand completely your pain I lost my baby Jeremiah and is hard when I think I’m good I noticed that it still hurts more my heart just breaks more I cry more tears just come out …..But day by day …im trying to move forward.
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Andrea, I am so sorry for your loss and the pain you are enduring at the moment. I wrote this post the other day, but I lost my son some years ago. Even though time has passed, I still remember vividly the feelings of near-despair I had. It was hard to believe sometimes that I’d ever feel happy again. I thought I would never survive the pain. I did make it through to the other side though. I just kept praying and trying to plod on, and gradually I felt the burden become lighter.
Yes, I also remember how some days I’d feel good. I would think the worse was over, and then I’d fall back down into that pit of grief again. The tears would flow and my heart too felt like it was breaking all over again. As the months passed though, days like this became further and further apart. I started to hope and even believe I’d survive.
One day at a time, that’s all we have to focus on. That’s all we have the energy to face. Andrea, I will keep you in my prayers. I hope you can keep moving forward, and one day you will be able to smile as you think of Jeremiah. God bless you!
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