A road to soul healing.

With time, one takes on some habits unknowingly. Waking in the middle of the night and talking to the sky has made it to the top of my list. For sane reasons, those conversations have been an outlet of what the soul needs.

It all started seven years ago when my world came crashing down to a million shattered pieces. I lost my firstborn son after 12 days of his birth. The grief took its toll, and I drowned in the sea of sadness.

Initially, nothing helped—my ripped heart and shattered soul only urged me to die.

No words helped. I would go days sleeping or days staying awake. I built walls around myself to endure the few, rare, raw memories of my son. Nothing seemed fair, and I was not ready to accept what happened following a perfectly fine pregnancy.

The hurt washed away the colors of each day. The world in my mind was crumbling, and all I could think about was death. I would picture scenarios in which I would take my last breath—I would think of the end all the time.

The sinkhole just sucked my whole being in. I was so naive of the feelings of my partner. My husband was holding it all together and was feeling exhausted. That’s when the awakenings started.

At night, my mind shook my body, and my soul was on its knees, on the path to healing. I started reading what soothed my soul. I started with sad quotes and sayings about child loss. Words worked like sharp-edged, poisoned arrows that shot across what was left inside me.

I wept, I cried to the heavens, I talked to the sky about what I felt. The more I read about my faith and stories of people who have been on this journey, the more I cried—but it was a step closer to healing.

The thing about losing a child is finding this new you who is born again. Like a baby, you learn everything again, you try to understand your surroundings, learn to build relationships, start pushing the rows of your boat to enter the stream of healing.

It takes forever in this journey. You learn how to keep your head just barely high above the waters.

There are days when you sink, but nature has a way to eventually make you see the sunlight.

And when the night listens to what your heart and soul have to pour out, it sends you what you need to survive just another day: the very first rays of sunshine.