I used to be the person who couldn't go to funerals or help a friend who was in dire need because it was too uncomfortable for me. I didn't know how to manage my own emotions around what other people were experiencing, and turning away was easier.
In 2013 I gained a new appreciation for death, dying, grieving, and how isolating they all feel when doctors told me my baby was going to die. I expected people to stay close and buoy me, and instead they backed up or disappeared. I picked up my camera to document what was happening because between the gaslighting from friends and family telling me it wasn't that bad and my overwhelmed brain trying to process it all, I was sure I wouldn't remember all the things I wanted to, and I wanted to see for myself later what it was like.
Photography helped me cope. It took some of the pressure off of trying to remember every little thing. It validated my experience by providing actual evidence. And it gave me the ability to process things in my own time as I looked back on the photos.
It started in the NICU. It grew to funeral homes, cemeteries, infusion floors, and hospice at home.
When you are having a hard time, I want to be there for it. Not to point out the silver linings, but to provide tangible evidence that it does indeed suck and a loving reminder that what you are feeling and experiencing is real, valid, and worthy. I promise not to turn away.
I do cry a lot, although I wait until I get home to sob.
