04/12/2023
✨This time of year Is. Hard. I found Carleigh passed away in early June 2020, and I find myself reliving the last days and months of her young life. There is a line of demarcation, the Life of Before and the Life of After, which represents the fault line that broke my world the moment I discovered my child was no longer present on this earth. For me, losing Carleigh has been immensely confusing in addition to unbearably painful.
In my life of Before, I thought I knew most (though admittedly not all) of the things that happened in my daughter’s life, because she shared so much with me. The months leading up to her passing were incredibly tumultuous. I had just unexpectedly lost my mother and was in deep grief. The pandemic was getting going and the world was upside down. I was trying to help Carleigh manage her anxiety, encouraging her to reach out to her care providers but she kept saying they weren’t helping her. In reality, they weren’t, because her anxiety was worse than I had seen it in a very long time. It was hard to watch her struggling, and I was dealing with my own struggles with processing the death of my mom at the time. I beat myself up about this a lot, because I see what I could have done differently, had I known at the time what I know now. I hate what Carleigh was going through, all that she was carrying on her shoulders that she felt she couldn’t share because she was ashamed. Her boyfriend was trying to bully her into giving up her son, because he was weak and couldn’t handle being around another man’s child. Carleigh loved Ashton more than life itself and adamantly refused to even consider giving him up. There was so much going on that I could have at the very least been there to listen to, had she given me the chance.
This Life of After for me has been so difficult to navigate; the presence of her absence is felt in everything both large and small. The mundane day-to-day life as well as the big days like birthdays and holidays. All her son’s milestones that she is missing. It is a heavy pain that no amount of time can take away. The Life of Before is where my daughter existed, where I could hug her, laugh until we snorted, spend time with her, and drive her nuts as was my job as her mom. Half of me stays in that place in time, and half of me is in this here and now. Half of me in heaven, half on earth. And, as time inches ever closer to the memorial date of her passing, the pain and reality of losing her will grow until it feels as though it will crush me. I can only hope that she knew and still knows how much I love her. 🕊