I feel nauseous all the time now. I thought it was because of  a meeting I was nervous about. I thought it was something I had eaten, too much dairy. I thought it was because I was hungry, tired, had eaten too much. I thought it was because I was worried about an appointment. I thought it was because of the atmosphere at work. I thought and thought and thought…

But, I am still nauseous all the time, now. I am feeling sick to my stomach most moments. I am lost and upset and confused and angry. And sick. to. my. stomach.

And I have never felt so very alone. It’s like people think it has been long enough and things are back to normal. For them, perhaps. But my normal is without a child. My normal has left a hole without measure. And I am so, very nauseous.

It seems that the empathy set aside for grief is gone. When I say I have had a rough day or a hard week, everyone asks, “What happened?” As though they expect a ‘new’ thing to have happened.

“The very same thing that happened before. That thing that both made me a fully recognized mom and member of a group all too forgotten. My son, who I never held in my arms while he still had life in him, was buried just three months ago. That is what happened. Is that so easy to forget?”

Of course, one cannot be that open, that honest with most. One or two, maybe. But not the majority. Not most of the world.

And as a grieve and re-learn how to live life and deal with this never-ending nausea it feels pretty bad to know those around me don’t understand and don’t seem to want to.