I was running this morning with a good girlfriend of mine to get ready for a half marathon I will attempt in November. We ran four miles, just four, and it seriously a challenge. The experience made me question if my half marathon goal is too lofty. I am still recovering from my c-section and I can also feel the toll that grieving has taken on my body. I am tired physically as well as emotionally and mentally. I feel as though something is weighing me down all the time. I guess that is because something is. Grief is a heaven burden. Heavy in so many ways.
As I ran I could feel a dull ache in my lower belly. I feel it every time I run and even for a few hours after. Truthfully I feel it even if I don't run. It is always there as a constant reminder that Aubrey and Ellie are gone. My belly is empty. My babies are not there anymore. And the ache I feel in my belly is the same ache I feel in my heart. For the rest of my life I will have a scar on my belly and on my heart to remind me that Aubrey and Ellie are not here with me. I think the scar on my heart still bleeds. It probably always will.
Not a second goes by that I don't wish to have my babies with me. I sit with one hand over my face and one hand on my belly and cry for them. My sadness comes from a place so deep within me that I didn't even know it existed. My pain runs as deep as my love. It is so unfair that the more you love some one the more it hurts to lose them. And I loved and lost two some ones within six days of eachother.
Maybe that is why my grief is so crushing? Or maybe grief is just crushing no matter what causes it? Regardless, my grief is crushing me. I don't know how much more I can take. Seriously, I need some relief. I need a chance to catch my breath. I need my babies back.