Who am I now?

It’s interesting how things change.

They don’t necessarily get better but you just get better at dealing with everything. I don’t miss Bryce any less. I still cry often if something hits me in a certain way. I don’t hurt any less. My heart still feels like I have several different knives permanently embedded in my heart that occasionally twist, making the pain even worse.

But somehow…I’ve learned how to live with the pain. Not completely. But it’s like any other form of chronic pain. You build a pain tolerance and you simply learn how to survive despite being in immense pain every day.

I closed on our new house last month and we’re now moved in and working on getting settled. We have our “Bryce wall” back and a new home for his ashes. We feel better having it all back where it belongs.

I have finished Carter’s room and have his shelves up where he keeps his portion of Bryce’s ashes and other keepsakes of his brother. I have Bryce’s furniture and his belongings in the third bedroom and I will get it all set up soon. I can’t help thinking about how much I wish that he were here with us. That the third room was for HIM and not just his stuff. But that is part of this process. Learning to live with the pain. Learning to survive.

I have been seeing a therapist every other week to help me process my grief, trauma, and PTSD. One thing that he said at my last session has me a little stumped. We were talking about how I am doing in my healing process. In the conversation, we talked about how I have been a mother for over 20 years. I have been a nurse for over 19 years. I have progressively added to my education over the years…nursing certificate program when Bryce was a newborn, an associate degree nursing program when he was a toddler, a bachelor’s degree program years later, and now finally a master’s program. All but the first have been done while also working full-time.

For over 20 years, my identity has been mother, nurse, and student.

Who am I otherwise?

I will always be Bryce’s mom. Nothing will ever change that, even if he isn’t physically here any longer. I am Carter’s mom and will always be so.

I am a nurse and will be a nurse practitioner in a couple of years too.

But aside from those things, who am I? What do I enjoy? What is there that I always thought I wanted to learn but never did?

Healing isn’t only coping with grief. It is also preventing you from letting your grief become your new identity. I can’t let myself become “Jen the Bereaved Mom”. Yes. I am a bereaved mother. It is part of me but that is not *who* I am.

But who am I then? I guess that is to be determined.