Grieving a little at a time

A friend of mine was in a horrible accident when she was about 7 months pregnant. She was run over by a bus, spent a month in the hospital, and still doesn't remember most of what happened. When my daughter died, I was so worried about what it must have been like, what she must have thought or felt. My friend reassured me that she probably didn't feel or think much of anything, that our bodies are equipped to numb us, make us forget extreme physical trauma, because our minds and hearts just aren't able to process it.

I know she's right, because I fell off my bike when I was about 10 years old and all I remember is flying over the handlebars and waking up at home several hours later. I don't remember going to or being at the hospital, the stitches, nothing.

So I'm somewhat relieved. It's helped me stop worrying about what my girl's last minutes with us were like.

And I wonder whether our hearts and minds are able to process something like the loss of a child. Initially, shock cushioned every minute, every horrible thing I had to do, from saying goodbye to my child in a hospital room, to going to the funeral home to sign all the papers for her cremation.

Eventually the shock wore off. And I started to re-experience events from that day minus the shock. I still experience them, and react the way I probably would have without the shock--screaming, crying, whatever. But at some point, it stops. I stop. Because if I didn't, I'd probably go insane with sadness and anger.

I believe my mind isn't able to fully process this loss. I grieve a little at a time because that's all I can manage. And for that reason, I will never stop grieving. I will turn over the events of that day, the fact she's gone, the things she never got to do, and all the other horrible things, in my mind again and again and again.