My Heart Hurts

My heart hurts.
This is a saying I have always known.
A saying many have heard of.
And a saying that I now truly understand.

40 years of living.
40 years of loving.
40 years of pain.
This is all I know.

I spend each day determined to find a smile.
To find a laugh.
To hear a story.
To cope with 40 years of life.

I am brought to my knees many times.
I regain my feet again and again.
I keep moving forward.
Never allowing myself to focus on the past.

I was able to carry the pain of my traumas.
I can carry the pain of my immense loss.
I can carry the pain of my failing health and body.
But I cannot carry the pain of my child.

As a mother, I felt my greatest pain was the loss of my child.
As a mother I thought the greatest pain had already been felt.
As a survivor of loss, I felt I could withstand anything.
But not being able to carry the pain of my child has destroyed me.
How do I face each day with this knowledge.
This feeling of immense helplessness.
This overwhelming sense of failure.
This extreme pain in my heart.

I feel so broken.
I feel so alone.
Surrounded by empathy.
And isolated by despair.

My child cries out in pain.
There are no wounds for me to tend to.
There is no boo boo for me to kiss.
There is no magic wand for me to make it better.

I am slowly shattering in my inability to take action.
Being pulled in all directions.
Until an action has been taken.
And now there is only doubt and regret.

So many actions in life.
So many choices.
Many are made with the greatest of intentions.
Filled with love and caring.

Yet every action has a reaction.
The outcomes of them, yet unknown.
Every choice has a consequence.
And these consequences are not just my own.
My choices are made in love and caring.
Actions have been taken to provide care and protect.
But these actions took power and control in the name of safety.
Potential harm may be dealt.

The unknowing of the results of my actions.
The knowledge that my child may be further harmed by my choices.
Drives me slowly to my knees.
The voices of doubt, guilt, and shame scream at me.

I am returned to times when my own pain became too much.
My experiences and knowledge spur both memory and imagination.
So many potential impacts.
So many potential outcomes.

I am struggling to remain calm.
I am struggling to remain present.
I can’t afford to lose control.
I can’t afford to lose myself.

So much of me has been tied to my strength and resiliency.
Tied into my determination to continue on.
My ability to keep looking forward and not dwell in the past.
And I feel as though I am losing these.

My inability to carry the pain of my child.
My inability to protect her from the pains of life.
My inability to know, without doubt, what is best for her.
Is destroying my confidence and my ability to cope.
I am so afraid that my choices are causing more harm.
I am so afraid that my actions have only worsened her pain.
I am so afraid that I will lose her.
I am so afraid that I will not be able to get back up.

I am afraid that if I lose her, I will lose everything.
She was my dream.
Throughout every life trauma.
I held my dream close.

When I finally held her in my arms.
My dreams had come true.
My dreams grew with her.
My life grew around her and expanded.

She has been the foundation.
She has been the motivation.
She has been the anchor.
Without her I am lost.

My heart hurts.
I truly understand.
A pain that transcends the body.
A pain that engulfs the soul.