Grief is a series of events, much like life. There are phases, and stages, and states, and every moment presents challenge and opportunity.

My currents struggle in grief is the energy, effort, and time it requires to grieve. My baby’s loss, how much I miss him, how hard it is for me to continue without him, and how I feel each and every day is a testament to my love for him, but also a reflection of how selfish I have become in grief. 

I know his loss is not just my loss. His loss affected countless others. Some struggle to make peace with the fact that our sweet man was taken too soon. Some treasure each moment a little more, realizing, through him, how crucial it is to live and enjoy every moment. 

Because he inspired all of us to be better, stay strong, and carry on.

But in my grief, sometimes I just want to hate every minute of this life without him. I want to play out every scenario of the life we could have had. What would be different, or better, more joyful, if he were still here? 

And I want to wipe the smile off my face and scream at the top if my lungs, “Why God? Why did you take him and why did you leave me here with this impossible suffering?”

But in my true heart, and my pure soul, outside of those angry outbursts, I realize, it’s not about me. 

His short, beautiful life is the greatest gift God has blessed upon me, and for some reason unknown to me, he was needed in Heaven more than he was on this Earth.

And it’s not about me. 

I will be the bravest, strongest, best version of myself because of him. But it’s time I start learning, and coping, and training my conscious self to know and understand that his loss, my loss, is not about me.

He was, and will always be, my greatest teacher. What I have learned, and will continue trying to understand, is that his purpose in this world is so much bigger than me. 

I will ache forever. I will have an emptiness in my soul until we meet again. But his short life, and his journey, his path, was chosen for him for a reason. 

I miss my baby. So much. 

His loss is immensely painful.

But it’s not about me.