I decided to try to articulate my pain. I usually say there are no words to describe it. But that can’t be true, there has to be words that help me describe my pain. So I did some research. Here is what I found. I copied and pasted the information and will also add my commentary on how it relates to my grief. Everyone grieves differently. For me right now it is acute pain.
I have been familiar with pain for a very long time. In my 20s it was IBS and Chronic Sinus Infections. Sinus Surgery helped but was it’s own pain experience. I gave birth to Hayley. In my 30s, it was a 2nd sinus surgery, wrist surgery, gall bladder, uterine ablation, and I gave birth to Henry. Add a dislocated tail bone thanks to Henry. I was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia at 38 and shortly after suffered Cardiac Arrest winning a pacemaker, that involved pain for sure. New Year’s in Vegas I broke my ankle. All of this before I was 40 and I am sure I am missing something. I looked up words to describe pain. This is what I found:
- aching
- tender
- sharp
- shooting
- hot
- burning
- nagging
- intense
- stabbing
- tingling
- dull
- throbbing
These words all describe the pain of Fibromyalgia. What they don’t include is the emotional pain. Guilt, Sadness, exhaustion, frustration, anger or disgust.
All of these descriptive words also describe my grief. The raw pain of losing half my heart in one horrible night. It aches all of the time. A deep ache in your chest, it feels as if it vibrates throughout your insides. Your skin is tender. You are raw. You don’t want anyone to bump into you. I sometimes cannot find clothes that are comfortable touching my skin. The sharp pain takes you by surprise, it takes your breath away. It happens when you walk into the dentist office and see a young girl with her back to you. She has long brown highlighted hair. She is wearing a black puffy north face vest, with leggings and black Nikes. This was Hayley’s uniform. The sharp pain knocks you down and you have to hide. Shooting pain is when you are doing laundry and you come across a pair of panties that were hers. You sit and grip it and put it to your face. I dropped to my knees feeling the shooting pain. Not knowing if it is from the grief or worry about your psyche that you are alone and smelling her clean underwear. Hot and Burning are the feelings of anger at the injustice of it all. Or when you receive a doctor bill 7 months past that lists the details of what services they provided. It included “placement of breathing tube”. I felt hot as I called and begged them to stop sending this mail addressed to Hayley. Nagging is easy to articulate. It is the nagging thoughts that won’t stop. What if I had taken her to a different hospital. Why didn’t I yell and scream until the doctors heard my concerns. It is a line of thinking that is truly nagging and so hard to stop once that train has left the station. Intense describes the pain I feel every single day. It is that moment when I wake up. For a few seconds I am only focused on which dog woke me up and then I remember. This pain is intense. Or when I walk into her room and see her shoes lined up, her make up cart, her laundry basket still holding the clothes she wore the week before her death. Such intense pain. Stabbing is all of the above. Tingling is the sense that you are forgetting something. A memory that you try to pluck and you can’t. Grief robs you of your mental strength. Studies actual show lost brain function in people experiencing intense grief. So if you are feeling all of the above and you can’t remember what you have to do tomorrow or what you did yesterday; it’s okay, you can blame it on brain damage. Finally, dull and throbbing, this is your eyes, sinuses, throat after crying every hour all day.
It is the middle of the night and my pain is high. My joints ache and my chest is tight. I am fighting tears begging the xanax to kick in. My muscles throb. How do I survive this pain? How do I walk through this hell? All I want to do is rest. I want one day, even just one hour where my body doesn’t hurt and my mind rests. I cannot even imagine how that would feel.
So when you ask me how I am and I shrug and say “ok”, or it’s a hard day, maybe knowing these words that describe pain will help you understand your own pain, my pain and the pain of your loved ones. Everyone carries some pain. Don’t forget that. Don’t forget the promises you made to me and others. Like when you said “I won’t stop asking”, “I will be here”. If you said it and you have not been able to follow through, it’s okay, you all have your lives to live. Because mine has stopped, yours shouldn’t. BUT what I ask is that the next time you are faced with someone in pain for whatever reason, do NOT make promises of any kind. You don’t need to add to their pain when life prevents you from following through. Just address the present, don’t promise for the future. I would prefer you didn’t. But you can be…
Be understanding. Be kind. Be patient. Be empathetic. Be helpful. Be strong. Be real. Be authentic. #belikehayley



I weeped. I cried because I knew so many amazing woman that were honoring my daughter to try to help me realize she was not forgotten. I cried because my daughter’s name was in lights. I cried because it would never be a message from a boyfriend like Jason showing his love for her. Scott and I held each other and cried. The tears practically froze on our cheeks. After watching it scroll three times I hope the Cinderella family knew how thankful we were that they stood outside with us. But then we said “let’s get the fuck out of the cold”. Just amazing.
Even when dragging her 2 and a half year old brother around didn’t phase her. Rain didn’t phase her. She could spend all day there and never complain, never meltdown. She was just so thankful to be there. One year we surprised the kids for their birthdays. Told them at the airport we were going. Their birthdays are just 9 days apart so it was easy to do big things and have them share!
Henry, well he is a 15 year old boy, enough said. So when I cry every day, it is just me and the dogs. This time Sara sat next to me and rubbed my back. It felt so foreign and I cried harder that I don’t have that every day. I relaxed into it and the tears felt like a release instead of pain. 
As we walked towards the parks rocking our ears, Sara reached out and held my hand. Her energy flowed into me and made me tear up but also made me realize, with that simple gesture, that I was not alone. The person that was there with me was exactly who I needed. We opted to start at California Adventure, less nostalgic. Plus Sara had not seen Carsland and I was so excited to get her on my favorite ride ever. We were wearing matching Red minnie tees with our Nike embroidered shirts over the top and our ears. Don’t forget the Micky earrings she gave me for my birthday that day. We were both absolutely ridiculous and incredibly adorable. Two grown woman celebrating their birthdays at the happiest place on earth.
Now I am missing one side. There is truly no happy place for me anymore. By going to Disney and the Ocean, I was searching for that place. The place where I would feel a little happy, a little peace. But I was wrong to have that expectation.
We didn’t do everything but we had fun. I spent a lot of time people watching. I would see a mother disgusted with her child. I wanted to walk up to her and tell her to enjoy this time, it won’t come again. Cherish it no matter what. Let your plans go, let the schedule go, just BE. I saw teenage girls wearing their ears and Disney wear. ( like us old folks)
They were ridiculously expensive, but I had to have it. I knew it would be the perfect accessory to wear when I was writing. We were lucky that our friend gets a Disney discount and I felt less guilt about this really impractical gift. Sara bought it for my birthday. It is lovely. I guess I am a princess. Maybe not a Disney Princess but a princess just the same. I know you are all jealous of my Tiara. You may see me at the grocery store wearing it.
Sara and I felt like we were back on Dance Team and at State where we decorated our doors. We left it up the rest of the time we were there.