Normal is waking up every morning with the emptiness of waking up without her
Normal is hiding each tear with a smile, and all the pain with jokes,
Normal is hiding from little girls because the pain I feel from not having my own is unbearable
Normal is counting down the days before I’m forced to celebrate a birthday, angel day, or holiday without her
Normal is wondering what I should buy for her, or how to keep her alive.
Normal is not being able to enjoy a happy moment because of the overwhelming pain that covers my heart.
Normal is needing to fill the void, but knowing nothing will ever compare.
Normal is pretending as if I’m normal for the sake of having people around me.
Normal is having to except that this is my reality, while the whole world around me moves on.
Normal is having to relive that day each moment of the day being constantly reminded that she is gone
Normal is disguising the torture, and anguish surviving no doubt but being silently murdered by a broken heart.
Normal is having to face the fact that this is my life
Normal is being numb to everything around me because nothing compares to the pain I feel daily
Normal is having people scared to mention my baby, yet still trying to keep her alive.
Normal is being impatient with everything and everyone, except those who are stricken with grief over the loss of my child
And last of all, Normal is hiding all the things that have become “Normal” for me to feel, so that everyone around me will think that I am “Normal”